"Then, I swear by _yourself_ (the only oath I know of possessing sufficient power to compel my strict adherence to it) to respect the existence of M. de Hansfeld as carefully as I would do your own," said the mulatto, with a peculiar look, gazing at the same time on Paula as if she would have read the very inmost recesses of her heart; "but, should you ever wish to marry M. de Morville without having to reproach yourself for the death of the prince, a death of which I should be equally innocent as yourself, say but one word--or, no, not even a word--" and Iris, casting her glances around, as though seeking something, and perceiving on the mantel-piece a gold pin, surmounted with an enamelled head, set round with pearls, took it up, saying, "you need only give me back this pin, and without either you or myself being in the eyes of God or man in any manner instrumental in procuring the death of the prince; you shall be free as air and at liberty to espouse M. de Morville. There is nothing that need astonish you in what I say; your greatest desire is for this marriage, while my sole and absorbing wish is for your perfect and unalloyed happiness." Before the princess could reply, Iris had disappeared. CHAPTER XXXV CONFESSIONS The engraver and his daughter were deeply affected by the recital of M. de Hansfeld. The pity of Bertha was excited by the painful situation of a man compelled like Arnold to struggle between his love for his wife and the horrible suspicions he entertained of her murderous intentions towards himself; there seemed to her a singular resemblance in the sorrows of the unhappy husband and her own; both were chained for life to objects wholly unworthy of their affections, and henceforward they must each drag on a weary existence, consuming their days in vain regrets or futile hopes. Still Bertha admitted to herself that her own burden was considerably lightened, since she had met in the preserver of her father a man who had inspired her with a sympathy as sincere as it was pure and innocent. She neither sought nor desired greater happiness than that of frequently seeing Arnold, and of hearing him converse with Pierre Raimond in a style and manner so winningly cheerful and gay, yet replete with tasteful observations on the literature of the day, as well as on every other subject indicative of an expansive and cultivated mind. We shall not allude to the exquisite delight with which, after Arnold had taken his departure, Bertha listened to the warm and energetic praises of the old engraver concerning the wonderful talent of Arnold, who, in Pierre Raimond's estimation, was one of the most learned, scientific, intelligent individuals, it had ever been his lot to meet.