He saw his advantage and pursued it. "See, I will be honest with you--
honest, at last, as I have wished in vain to be, for honesty was
misunderstood. It is not so with you--you understand. Dear, light of
womanhood, I speak the truth now. I have been evil in my day I admit it
--evil because I was in the midst of evil. I betrayed because I was
betrayed; I slew, else I should have been slain. We have had dark days
in England, privy conspiracy and rebellion; and I have had to thread my
way through dreadful courses by a thousand blind paths. Would it be no
joy to you if I, through your influence, recast my life--remade my
policy, renewed my youth--pursuing principle where I have pursued
opportunity? Angele, come to Kenilworth with me. Leave De la Foret to
his fate. The way to happiness is with me. Will you come?"

He had made his great effort. As he spoke he almost himself believed
that he told the truth. Under the spell of his own emotional power it
seemed as though he meant to marry her, as though he could find happiness
in the union. He had almost persuaded himself to be what he would have
her to believe he might be.

Under the warmth and convincing force of his words her pulses had beat
faster, her heart had throbbed in her throat, her eyes had glistened;
but not with that light which they had shed for Michel de la Foret.
How different was this man's wooing--its impetuous, audacious, tender
violence, with that quiet, powerful, almost sacred gravity of her
Camisard lover! It is this difference--the weighty, emotional
difference--between a desperate passion and a pure love which has ever
been so powerful in twisting the destinies of a moiety of the world to
misery, who otherwise would have stayed contented, inconspicuous and
good. Angele would have been more than human if she had not felt the