Hardly had their need been uttered when there came mademoiselle
to beg a pardon for her father. A woman, beautiful and guileless, whom
any man might adore and trust, of whom any man might beg a tryst; a
woman, whose father was already in prison, his fate at the governor's
will; a woman, inexperienced and credulous, easily made to believe that
her father's crime was of the gravest; a woman, dutiful and
affectionate, willing to purchase her father's life and freedom at any
cost. What better instrument could have come to their hands? Her anxiety
to save her father would give her the powers of dissimulation necessary
to do the work. Her purity and innocence were a rare equipment for the
task of a Delilah. Who would suspect her of guile and intrigue any more
than I had done?
And now, having gone as far as she had in the task, she had abandoned it.
Even to save her father, she would no more play the traitress against me!
Against _me_! She loved me, then! Her task had become intolerable. She
must relieve herself of it. Yet as long as La Chatre still supposed that
she was carrying it out, she would feel bound by her obligation to him.
She must free herself of that obligation. She had made a compact with
him, she had given him her word. Though she resolved not to betray me,
she would not betray him either. He must no longer rely on her for the
performance of a deed that she had cast from her.
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