For some moments he dwelt upon this thought; then he resumed the thread of his meditations,—
"Am I sure of this?"
And presently he repeated those bitter words: "Had I but known!"
This whole experience gave him a sense of oppression, for his own action in the affair was enigmatical to him. His thoughts were sad, since a sense of guilt had crept into them. A kindly act may prove in the end to have been an evil one. He who saves the wolf kills the sheep; he who sets the vulture's wing is responsible for his talons. The unreasoning anger of this mother was therefore justified.
Still he felt a certain consolation in the knowledge that he had saved the mother, which partly balanced his regret for having saved the Marquis.
"But the children?"
The mother was also thinking; and these two currents of thoughts moved side by side, perhaps to mingle unawares in the shadowy land of reverie.
Meanwhile her eyes, gloomy as the night, rested again on Tellmarch.
"We cannot go on like this," she said.
"Hush!" rejoined Tellmarch, putting his finger on his lips.