I told him, and he thanked God audibly. I then entreated to know something concerning his arrest, its cause, and what the consequences were likely to be. "Spare me!" cried he, "spare me! It is most painful to a man to blush with shame in the presence of his wife. Helen! kind, good Helen! I know you meant to sooth and serve me; but you have humbled me to the dust, and my spirit sinks before you! Go and leave me to perish. In my very best days I was wholly unworthy of you; but now--" He was right; and my parading kindness, my intruding virtue were offensive. I had humbled him: I had obliged him too much: I had towered over him in the superiority of my character; and instead of attaching, I had alienated him. This was human nature--I saw it, I owned it now, but I was not prepared for it, and it overwhelmed me with despair. Still, it softened my heart in his favour; for, if I had to forgive his errors, he had to forgive my officious exhibition of romantic duty. I now at his request told him all my plans, and every thing that had passed since I came, not omitting to tell him that I had seen De Walden. Nor was I sorry to remark, that at his name he started and changed colour. "He here! Then you are sure of a protector," said he, "and I feel easier. But, Helen! you are too young, too lovely to expose yourself to the gaze of the men in power. I protest that you are at this moment as beautiful as ever, Helen!" "It is from the temporary embellishment of strong emotion only," replied I, pleased by this compliment from him. I then turned the discourse to the opportunity our shop gave us of hearing conversations; and I also promised to bring him some of our commodities. He tried to smile, but could not, and I saw that my presence evidently distressed instead of soothing him. Benoit now came to say I must stay no longer, and disappeared again; while, a prey to most miserable feelings, I rose to depart. "I shall come again to-morrow," said I; "shall I not?" "If you insist upon it, you shall; but, you had better leave me, Helen, to perish, and forget me!" "Forget you! Cruel Seymour!" cried I, bursting into an agony of tears. He now approached me, and, sinking on one knee, took my hand and kissed it: then held it to his heart. A number of feelings now contended in my bosom, but affection was predominant; and as he knelt before me I threw my arms round his neck, mingling my tears with his, "_Mais vite donc, citoyenne--dépêches tu!_"[17] said Benoit, just unclosing the door, and speaking outside it. Pendarves rose, and led me to him; and scarcely knowing whether pain or satisfaction predominated, I reached the gate, Benoit kindly assuring me I might command his services to the utmost. [Footnote 17: Quick, make haste, female citizen!]