"I found Adèle as sad as ever, and as terrified before her father. During the four days which preceded our union, I flattered myself that I should have more than one opportunity to be alone with my future bride; but Monsieur de Montfort was almost always present, he left us very little; and when, being alone with Adèle, I spoke to her of my love, she sighed, lowered her eyes and did not answer me.
"Our wedding-day arrived; Adèle, whose pallor and distress made her even lovelier in my eyes, walked with me to the altar. As we were about to take the oath which bound us to each other, I saw her tremble and look at her father. At last we were united, and I received her hand, which trembled in mine. I should have been at the very summit of felicity, if my wife’s melancholy had not secretly worried me; but I say again, I loved her with an idolatrous love, and I still flattered myself that I could make her love me in return.
"Our wedding-day passed quietly, without festivities; only a few friends and neighbors spent it with us. It seemed to me that I could see Adèle’s sadness and depression increase momentarily; but when I asked her if she were suffering, she answered gently that there was nothing the matter. The hour to retire arrived. Adèle went to our apartment, but I was obliged to remain a few moments longer with the guests. At last, everyone went away, and I hastened to join my wife.
"They had given us for our quarters a very pleasant wing looking on the garden, and separated from the other parts of the building. I dismissed the servants and was soon in my room, where I expected to find my wife; but it was empty. Surprised not to find Adèle there, I went through the adjoining rooms, looking for her and calling her; but I soon acquired the certainty that she was not in the building. Her absence disturbed me; I noticed that the small door opening into the garden was ajar, and I concluded that Adèle, feeling indisposed, had gone out into the garden for a breath of fresh air. I instantly went there in search of her.
"The garden was immense; I walked hastily along, seeking to pierce the darkness in the paths which surrounded me. There was a heavy weight at my heart, and my anxiety became greater every moment. I was approaching a beautiful pond at the foot of an extensive lawn, when I fancied that I distinguished the figure of a woman kneeling on the edge of the water. I quickened my pace, but before I reached the bank, she whom I had seen had hurled herself into the water. I saw my Adèle’s white garments floating on the surface. I was soon beside her, I succeeded in grasping her, and in swimming back to the shore with her; taking her in my arms, I carried her to our apartment, where, without calling anyone, I instantly bestowed on her every attention demanded by her condition.
"Adèle had been taken from the water so quickly that I had no fear for her life; my efforts were soon rewarded; she opened her eyes and saw me beside her, moistening with my tears the hands which I had warmed in mine.
"‘You saved me!’ she exclaimed, with an expression of the most profound regret.
"‘Yes,’ I said to her, ‘yes, heaven permitted me to arrive in time to bring you back to life. But who will save me now from my despair? Who will allay the remorse which I feel for having induced you to contract a union which causes you such horror? Do you detest me so, Adèle? Do I inspire you with such insurmountable aversion that you’d rather kill yourself than be mine?’
"Adèle seemed touched by my excessive despair; her eyes filled with tears, and she answered, while sobbing:
"‘No, I do not hate you; indeed I have the most affectionate friendship for you; but alas! I could not be your wife, and yet I had to obey my father, of whom I am so afraid, whose anger is so terrible! Ah! he would have killed me if I had resisted his will; I preferred to kill myself after obeying him. In pity’s name, forgive me and let me die!’