THE LOVE OF MONSIEUR
friended among a crew of rascals who stood at nothing and from whom only himself could preserve her? Had he not secretly welcomed her wish last night to be carried aboard the Saucy Sally, and the contingency which made it impossible for her to be returned to the San Isidro? Was he not conscious of a sense of guilt that he had not found an opportunity to send her back to safety? She was completely in his power. His heart sang high; but the cord was frayed, and the note rang false. It was impossible; no matter how deeply he had seared his soul, no man born as he had been born could refuse the mute appeal of a woman in distress. He thought of his dishonor the night he had come upon the Saucy Sally, when in a fury against the fortune which still denied him he had railed, madly, impotently, against all virtue, and in a passion of vengefulness sunk so low that he had loudly threatened, like a common street ruffian and card-room bully, this woman, whom—God help him!—he loved and would love throughout all time. The depth of his degradation cumbered him about, remorse fell upon him,
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