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CHAPTER XVI THE ESCAPE,
The woodcutter began at last to lose his temper, for she repeated over twenty times that they would repent the deed, and that she had said it would be so. He threatened to beat her if she did not hold her tongue. It was not that the woodcutter was not, perhaps, even more sorry than his wife, but that she made so much noise about it, and that he was like many other people, who are fond of women who say the right thing, but are annoyed by those who are always in the right. The wife was all in tears. "Alas! where are now my children, my poor children?" She uttered her cry, at last, so loudly, that the children, who were at the door, heard her, and began to call out all together, "Here we are! here we are!" She rushed to the door to open it, and embracing them, exclaimed, "How thankful I am to see you again, my dear children; you are very tired and hungry; and you, little Peter, how dirty you are! come here and let me wash you." Peter was her eldest son, and she loved him better than all the rest, because he was red-headed, and she was rather red-haired herself. They sat down to supper and ate with an appetite that delighted their father and mother, to whom they related how frightened they had been in the forest, nearly all keeping on speaking at the same time. The good people were overjoyed to see their children around them once more, and their joy lasted as long as the ten crowns. When the money was spent, however, they fell back into their former state of misery, and resolved to lose their children again; and to make quite sure of doing so this time, they determined to lead them much further from home than they had before.,
'About this time a circumstance occurred which promised me a speedy release from calamity. About a week elapsed, and Vincent did not appear. My little stock of provision was exhausted, and I had been two days without food, when I again heard the doors that led to my prison creek on their hinges. An unknown step approached, and in a few minutes the marquis entered my cell! My blood was chilled at the sight, and I closed my eyes as I hoped for the last time. The sound of his voice recalled me. His countenance was dark and sullen, and I perceived that he trembled. He informed me that Vincent was no more, and that henceforward his office he should take upon himself. I forbore to reproach—where reproach would only have produced new sufferings, and withheld supplication where it would have exasperated conscience and inflamed revenge. My knowledge of the marquis's second marriage I concealed.,
The wind was roaring so that they could scarcely hear each other speak.
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“Yes.” Johnny stared at his mother’s tear-stained face.,
By the time his story was finished, a knock sounded on the door and it opened to let in Jenkins, the camp marshal.,
“And has the plan been a success?” interrupted Bob again.,
Hardly were the words out of his mouth before the boat and its occupants were plunged into the gloom of the cavern.
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“Take it all back, Bob; you’re right. I saw it too.”
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“Nope,” said the other. “Dad don’t want me to be a cowboy. I wouldn’t mind that much. He wants me to be a farm hand! Nix on that! I wish I could go up to the dam. That’s regular work. Reckon I could get a job up there?”
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'I was interrupted in my confession by a sound of deep sobs, and rising my eyes, Oh God, what were my sensations, when in the features of the holy father I discovered Angelo! His image faded like a vision from my sight, and I sunk at his feet. On recovering I found myself on my matrass, attended by a sister, who I discovered by her conversation had no suspicion of the occasion of my disorder. Indisposition confined me to my bed for several days; when I recovered, I saw Angelo no more, and could almost have doubted my senses, and believed that an illusion had crossed my sight, till one day I found in my cell a written paper. I distinguished at the first glance the handwriting of Angelo, that well-known hand which had so often awakened me to other emotions. I trembled at the sight; my beating heart acknowledged the beloved characters; a cold tremor shook my frame, and half breathless I seized the paper. But recollecting myself, I paused—I hesitated: duty at length yielded to the strong temptation, and I read the lines! Oh! those lines prompted by despair, and bathed in my tears! every word they offered gave a new pang to my heart, and swelled its anguish almost beyond endurance. I learned that Angelo, severely wounded in a foreign engagement, had been left for dead upon the field; that his life was saved by the humanity of a common soldier of the enemy, who perceiving signs of existence, conveyed him to a house. Assistance was soon procured, but his wounds exhibited the most alarming symptoms. During several months he languished between life and death, till at length his youth and constitution surmounted the conflict, and he returned to Naples. Here he saw my brother, whose distress and astonishment at beholding him occasioned a relation of past circumstances, and of the vows I had taken in consequence of the report of his death. It is unnecessary to mention the immediate effect of this narration; the final one exhibited a very singular proof of his attachment and despair;—he devoted himself to a monastic life, and chose this abbey for the place of his residence, because it contained the object most dear to his affections. His letter informed me that he had purposely avoided discovering himself, endeavouring to be contented with the opportunities which occurred of silently observing me, till chance had occasioned the foregoing interview.—But that since its effects had been so mutually painful, he would relieve me from the apprehension of a similar distress, by assuring me, that I should see him no more. He was faithful to his promise; from that day I have never seen him, and am even ignorant whether he yet inhabits this asylum; the efforts of religious fortitude, and the just fear of exciting curiosity, having withheld me from enquiry. But the moment of our last interview has been equally fatal to my peace and to my health, and I trust I shall, ere very long, be released from the agonizing ineffectual struggles occasioned by the consciousness of sacred vows imperfectly performed, and by earthly affections not wholly subdued.'
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Father and Mother sat in the study, Mother with her handkerchief in her hand and with red eyes.
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