nearer. Why do you look at me like that? I do not know you. Do you hate me? Are you not a priest?"
"Yes, a priest; God forgive me! Continue in peace, I am listening."
"Yes, yes. O heavens! what torture! My murder had no suffering like this, like the death You give me, oh God!"
"Hush, hush; be patient. It is your punishment. Pray for forgiveness."
"I will pray, yes, yes; but I must tell you first of my sin. I must confess."
"I am listening."
"I will tell you a story; mind, it is a story. Oh! it could not have been a murder. No one could say it was a murder. No jury could hang me, even if they knew all. My excuse, youth—and the indissolubility of the marriage bond. I was very young when I married."
"And she?"
"She. Oh, yes, she was very young, too; but I did not know my own mind—did not know that in a few years I should meet a woman who would be all the world to me, and whom I could not have. I would have flown
