Canada -- History -- To 1763 (New France) -- Fiction; United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Fiction
He laughed hatefully. "My faith, but it has, shocked my vanity,"
he answered. "And now take this for thinking on: Up to this point I
have pleaded with you, used persuasion, courted you with a humility
astonishing to myself. Now I will have you in spite of all. I will
break you, and soothe your hurt afterwards. I will, by the face of
the Madonna, I will feed where this Moray would pasture, I will
gather this ripe fruit!"
With a devilish swiftness he caught her about the waist, and
kissed her again and again upon the mouth.
The blood was pounding in my veins, and I would have rushed in
then and there, have ended the long strife, and have dug revenge
for this outrage from his heart, but that I saw Alixe did not move,
nor make the least resistance. This struck me with horror, till,
all at once, he let her go, and I saw her face. It was very white
and still, smooth and cold as marble. She seemed five years older
in the minute.
"Have you quite done, monsieur?" she said, with infinite quiet
scorn. "Do you, the son of a king, find joy in kissing lips that
answer nothing, a cheek from which the blood flows in affright and
shame? Is it an achievement to feed as cattle feed? Listen to me,
Monsieur Doltaire. No, do not try to speak till I have done, if
your morality--of manners--is not all dead. Through this cowardly
act of yours, the last vestige of your power over me is gone. I
sometimes think that, with you, in the past, I have remained true
and virtuous at the expense of the best of me; but now all that is
over, and there is no temptation--I feel beyond it: by this hour
here, this hour of sore peril, you have freed me. I was
tempted--Heaven knows, a few minutes ago I was tempted, for
everything was with you; but God has been with me, and you and I
are no nearer than the poles."
"You doubt that I love you?" he said in an altered voice.
"I doubt that any man will so shame the woman he loves," she
answered.
"What is insult to-day may be a pride to-morrow," was his quick
reply. "I do not repent of it, I never will, for you and I shall
go to-night from here, and you shall be my wife; and one day, when
this man is dead, when you have forgotten your bad dream, you will
love me as you can not love him. I have that in me to make you love
me. To you I can be loyal, never drifting, never wavering. I tell
you, I will not let you go. First my wife you shall be, and after
that I will win your love; in spite of all, mine now, though it is
shifted for the moment. Come, come, Alixe"--he made as if to take
her hand--"you and I will learn the splendid secret--"
She drew back to the shrine of the Virgin.
"Mother of God! Mother of God!" I heard her whisper, and then she
raised her hand against him. "No, no, no," she said, with sharp
anguish, "do not try to force me to your wishes--do not; for I, at
least, will never live to see it. I have suffered more than I can
bear I will end this shame, I will--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account