"Too late? Why, then, if you love me as you say!"
"Because I have embarked on this enterprise after much thought and long deliberation. I have put into it my strength of body and brain, my property, my life, my honour--and it is too late to turn back. The ship is laden, the anchor weighed, and we have put out to sea with a fair wind. Return to harbour? By no means. You do not ask it, Gabrielle."
"There," said Gabrielle, with a sob, "what did I tell you? You do not love me. It is yourself that you love, Jean, and all those stupid plans of yours."
"But no, Gabrielle, all are for you, as the means to the end. How can one have the end without the means?"
"Oh, I could tell you very well, but I will not. It is easy to see that you have made up your mind. Well, there is another who has a mind of her own. Adieu, Monsieur. Here our paths divide. Take the broad, dusty road, if you like. For me, I take this little path through the woods--alone. No, you shall not."
"Gabrielle, this is most unfair, cruel, heartless."
"It may be so, but I know another who is cruel, who has no heart--it is Monseigneur Jean Baptiste Giroux."
With this she went away through the woods, humming a song about a gay, inconstant lover, quite different from Jean Baptiste:
"Papillon, tu es volage!
Tu ressembl' à mon amant.
L'amour est un badinage,
L'amour est un passe-temps,
Quand j'ai mon amant
J'ai le coeur content."
CHAPTER XIII