Alfred de Rosann — page 127: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

118 | ALFRED DE ROSANN. miny you had suffered on my account. But he did not reveal the sad tidings till I had sworn that you - and I were not friends, that the fact should never escape my lips in England, and that there was no chance of our conversing together.’’ = ‘He did right,’? cried De Rosann. ‘¢ A sudden malady has seized upon me,” said La Motte, “and will soon extinguish the vital spark with its vengeful breath... I feel that a just God is punish- ing me for my crimes. Alas! perhaps the agonies I now endure are only a foretaste of those I am destined to undergo in the regions where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched!’ “Console yourself, La Motte,’? whispered Alfred, in a kind tone; for he forgot at that awful moment all — he had undergone through the treachery of the dying © man. “Say that you-pardon me!’’ implored La Motte, large drops of perspiration falling from his forehead, and mingling with the repentant tears which he shed. “¢ Say that you pardon me—and I may yet die in peace and comparative contentment.”’ | -“T pardon you from the bottom of my heart; I for- get all—all you have made me suffer; I offer you the hand of friendship,”’ cried the generous youth, grasp- ing the emaciated fingers held out to him, “and I swear, as God is my judge, that I sincerely forgive you La Motte—oh! as sincerely as man ean do.”? “In my death I shall be more serviceable to you than I was in my lifetime, De Rosann,’’ said La Motte, vainly endeavouring to stifle the convulsive sobs that nearly choked him, and that perpetually interrupted his conversation: ‘I have at length done you the justice I owe you. Since the fatal moment of my crime, I have scarcely known happiness, other- wise than asan empty name. My affectionate wife, who never suspected my guilt,—and in order to con- ceal it from her, I carefully avoided any corres- pondence with the continent, not even suffering a French journal to enter my house,—that devoted wo- — Gomichbooks.,.com