him in the hour of danger. Are we atheists, that we let ourselves be
discouraged in this way? Let us go and see Patience. . . . He will bring
forth some wise saw to ease our minds; he is the old oracle who solves
all problems without understanding any."

They moved away, while I remained in a state of consternation.

Oh, how different was this night from the last! How vast a step I had
just taken in life, no longer on the path of flowers but on the arid
rocks! Now I understood all the odious reality of the part I had been
playing. In the bottom of Edmee's heart I had just read the fear and
disgust I inspired in her. Nothing could assuage my grief; for nothing
now could arouse my anger. She had no affection for M. de la Marche;
she was trifling neither with him nor with me; she had no affection for
either of us. How could I have believed that her generous sympathy for
me and her sublime devotion to her word were signs of love? How, in the
hours when this presumptuous fancy left me, could I have believed that
in order to resist my passion she must needs feel love for another? It
had come to pass, then, that I had no longer any object on which to vent
my rage; now it could result only in Edmee's flight or death? Her death!
At the mere thought of it the blood ran cold in my veins, a weight fell
on my heart, and I felt all the stings of remorse piercing it. This
night of agony was for me the clearest call of Providence. At last I
understood those laws of modesty and sacred liberty which my ignorance
had hitherto outraged and blasphemed. They astonished me more than ever;
but I could see them; their sanction was their own existence. Edmee's
strong, sincere soul appeared before me like the stone of Sinai on which
the finger of God has traced the immutable truth. Her virtue was not
feigned; her knife was sharpened, ready to cut out the stain of my love.
I was so terrified at having been in danger of seeing her die in my