Chapter 12 - Page 2

heard him near her, she snatched her fingers from
Georges's clasp and covered her face with them. After the man had
disappeared, Du Roy asked, hoping for another place of meeting than
La Trinite: "Where shall I see you to-morrow?"

She did not reply; she seemed transformed into a statue of prayer.
He continued: "Shall I meet you to-morrow at Park Monceau?"

She turned a livid face toward him and said unsteadily: "Leave me--
leave me now--go--go away--for only five minutes--I suffer too much
near you. I want to pray--go. Let me pray alone--five minutes--let
me ask God--to pardon me--to save me--leave me--five minutes."

She looked so pitiful that he rose without a word and asked with
some hesitation: "Shall I return presently?"

She nodded her head in the affirmative and he left her. She tried to
pray; she closed her eyes in order not to see Georges. She could not
pray; she could only think of him. She would rather have died than
have fallen thus; she had never been weak. She murmured several
words of supplication; she knew that all was over, that the struggle
was in vain. She did not however wish to yield, but she felt her
weakness. Some one approached with a rapid step; she turned her
head. It was a priest. She rose, ran toward him, and clasping her
hands, she cried: "Save me, save me!"

He stopped in surprise.

"What do you want, Madame?"

"I want you to save me. Have pity on me. If you do not help me, I am
lost!"

He gazed at her, wondering if she were mad.

"What can I do for you?" The priest was a young man somewhat
inclined to corpulence.

"Receive my confession," said she, "and counsel me, sustain me, tell
me what to do."

He replied: "I confess every Saturday from three to six."

Seizing his arm she repeated: "No, now, at once--at once! It is
necessary! He is here! In this church! He is waiting for me."

The priest asked: "Who is waiting for you?"

"A man--who will be my ruin if you do not save me. I can no longer
escape him--I am too weak--too weak,"

She fell upon her knees sobbing: "Oh, father, have pity upon me.
Save me, for God's sake, save me!" She seized his gown that he might
not escape her, while he uneasily glanced around on all sides to see
if anyone noticed the woman at his feet. Finally, seeing that he
could not free himself from her, he said: "Rise; I have the key to
the confessional with me."

* * * * * * *

Du Roy having walked around the choir, was sauntering down the nave,
when he met the stout, bold man wandering about, and he wondered: