“Tell me,” added the ex-shoemaker, addressing his fearful companion, “why it is that the Countess has not burned those papers?”
“Because the Countess like all criminals is superstitious; because she fears some day she may repent; because she conjectures that those papers will be, so to speak, her passport to eternity; for it is a well-known fact that no sinner blots out the tracks of his crimes, fearful of forgetting them at the hour of death, and of not being able to retrace his steps to find the path of virtue. I tell thee then, that those papers exist.”
“So, then, by obtaining them, Elena will be mine,” insisted Tito, still doubting Death’s ability to procure that happiness for him.
“There would yet be another obstacle to overcome,” responded Death.
“What?”
“Elena has been promised by her father to the nephew of the Countess, the Viscount de Daimiel.”
“What! she loves him?”
“No; but they were betrothed two months ago.”
“Oh! then all is hopeless!” exclaimed Tito, in despair.