"I stifled all the more selfish feelings of a mother's heart and I consented. I took that oath. I kissed my child for the last time, and tore myself away. I hoped to die; but God reserved me for a long and bitter expiation of my sin. I still found upon earth, however, one kind and pitying friend. He was the brother of my noble lover, and himself among the highest in the land. He was a priest; and, in his compassion, he found me refuge in a convent, where, though I deemed myself unworthy to receive the veil, I assumed the dress of the humblest penitent, and took the name of the repentant one--the name of Magdalen. I desired to cut myself off completely from the world; and I permitted the father of my child to believe a report that I was no more. In the humility of my bitter repentance, I vowed never to pass the gates of the holy house of God--never to put my foot upon the sacred ground--never to profane the sanctuary with my soul of sin--to worship only without, and at the threshold, until such time as it should seem to me that God had heard my repentance, and accepted my expiation. Now, thou knowest why I have never dared to enter the holy building." The witchfinder groaned bitterly, clenching, in agony, the folds of his garment, and tearing his breast. "My spiritual adviser was benevolent and kind; but he was also stern in his calling. He imposed upon me such penitence as, in his wisdom, he thought most fit to wash out my crime; and I obeyed with humble reverence. But there was one penance more cruel than the rest--the mortification of my only earthly affection--the driving out from my heart all thought of the child of my folly and sin--the vow never to seek, to look upon her more. But the love of the world was still too strong upon the wretched mother. At the risk of her soul's salvation, she fled the convent to see her child once again. It was in the frenzy of a fever-fit, when I thought to die. I forgot all--all but my oath--I never sought to speak to my darling child; but I followed her wherever I could--I watched for her as she passed--I gazed upon her with love--I prayed for blessings on her head." "Alas! I see it all now. It is, as it were, a bandage fallen from my eyes. Fool--infatuated fool!--monster that I was!" cried the witchfinder. "Bertha was your daughter--my sister; and I have smitten the mother for the love she bore her child. And he--her father--he was that villain! Curses on him!"