Does one not know what the 'Confession,' whispered through the grating, really was? Or can one doubt what the Priest's advice was? Was it not necessarily the same advice so urgently forced upon her by Madame Heger? She must escape from the peril of temptation: she must not show this tragic passion any mercy: she must break this spell: she must go back to England. She felt she could not do this thing of herself without 'God's special grace preventing her'? Therefore she must diligently seek to obtain this grace _by the aid of the Holy Catholic Church_--and she must call in the Rue du Parc--next morning. In so far as the last recommendation went, we know Charlotte did not follow it. _The adventure_--as she says herself, _stopped there_. Nor is there anything in her own story to indicate the existence of any real Jesuit, taking the place of the mischief-making Saint, Père Silas, familiar to readers of _Villette_. The Priest of Ste. Gudule comes to us as a more impressive personage just because Charlotte _never met him again._ But his advice remained vividly present to her recollection we may feel sure. On the 23rd October, about a month after this event, she writes once more to Ellen Nussey:-- 'It is a curious position to be so utterly solitary in the midst of numbers. One day lately I felt as if I could bear it no longer _and I went to Madame Heger and gave her notice. If it had depended upon her I should certainly have soon been at liberty. But M. Heger having heard of what was in agitation, sent for me the day after and pronounced with vehemence his decision that I could not leave. I could not at that time have persevered in my intentions without exciting him to anger; and promised to stay a little while longer._' And so what had to be done in the end was postponed: and the old hidden enmity between Charlotte and Madame Heger went on for another three months. CHAPTER V THE LEAVE-TAKING--THE SCENE IN THE CLASS-ROOM--CHARLOTTE LEAVES BRUSSELS Two other events that we know must have happened within a few days of Charlotte's departure from Brussels, 2nd January 1844, are lit up by the emotions painted in _Villette._ We cannot doubt that these emotions were suffered by the woman of genius who describes them, because it is, not imagination, but remembrance, that has given these pages the magical touch of life, the 'vibration' that translates words 'into feelings,' so that we are not readers, but witnesses, of what this tormented heart endures.