Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/378

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.

from the Order. We have no secrets, you know, amongst ourselves; or rather, I should say nothing is so secret but that it has its witnesses. Here, at Paris, in Rome, will be known all that you do in England; more, all that you leave undone. I need scarcely charge you to be diligent, trustworthy, secret; but I must warn you not to be over-scrupulous. Remember, the intention justifies the deed. It is not only expedient, but meritorious to do evil that good may come."

They were now approaching the town, and the sentry was being relieved at its fortified gate. The clash of arms, the measured tramp, the martial bearing of the soldiers, called up in Florian's mind such associations as for the moment drowned the sentiments of religious penitence and self-accusation that had lately taken possession of his heart. He longed to throw off the priest's robe, the grave deportment, the hateful trammels of an enforced and professional hypocrisy, and to feel a man once more—a man, adventurous, free, desperate, relying for very life on the plank beneath his foot or the steel in his hand, but at least able to carry his head high amongst his fellows, and to know that were it but for five minutes, the future was his own. It was sin even to dream of such things.

"Mea culpa, mea culpa!" he muttered in a desponding tone, and beat his breast, and bent his eyes once more upon the ground.

"When am I to go?" said he meekly, reverting to their previous conversation, and abandoning, as though after deep reflection, the unwillingness he had shown from the first.

"This evening, after vespers," answered the Abbé, with a scarce perceptible inflection of contempt in his voice that denoted he had read him through like a book. "You will attend as usual. Everything is prepared, even to a garb less grave than that you wear, and a good horse (ah! you cannot help smiling now) will be waiting for you at the little gate. You ought to be half way to Calais before the moon is up."

His face brightened now, though he strove hard to conceal his satisfaction. Here was change, freedom, excitement, liberty, at least for a time, and an adventurous journey, to terminate in her presence, who was still to his eyes the