The Argosy — page 328: what you’re looking at

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

The Curé’s Sister. 307 peace, as well as of your own; why should yours be the hand to draw him into the broad road that Geadeth to destruction P” She listened to me, weeping. ‘© Teave him then,” I continued, “‘ leave him for ever ; even without a farewell, if you have not strength to say it. Do not hesitate; the eulf which stands only a few steps from you is horrible in its depth, ii ‘Go on !—go on!” she said, flinging her hands towards me again for a moment, and then covering her face as before. ‘Vou told me to plead with you for his sake, Léonie, not your own; so for his sake, I say, never touch his hand again, never see his face again, but part with him now and for EVER!” Ah ! may I never hear again from human lips such a cry as broke from hers, as she fell forward on her knees and seized my hand. *‘'You have saved me,” she ‘Said. “IT have strength now to obey you. Come with me at once.’ She dragged herself on her knees towards me, and grasped my wrist as the drowning clutch a hand. “Come! come! if I linger a moment I shall ie my strength. Now !—let me save him now! If you unclasp my hand, I am lost.” I raised her, and to my amazement she directed her swift steps to- wards the chateau. [I still grasped her hand tightly, and her excite- ment was so great that her speed and strength seemed supernatural. I would not check her in her design. ‘She goes,” I thought, ‘to tell the Countess she renounces her son, and accepts the propositions that have been made to her.” I spoke to her but once during that hurried, fevered walk. It was when we were at the great doors of the house of St. Erme. “‘Léonie, you have done well. God will bless you for it. You could never be his wife, you know.” She turned a white face on me, with the shadow of a great horror falling over it like a veil; her lips moved, but I heard no sound save the word “ Wife! Wife!” like someone repeating a wild echo in mad- ness. I had no time to soothe her, for a servant opened the door, and in a moment we were in the presence of Madame de St. Erme. She was paler than when I saw her last, and she sat listlessly on her velvet couch, as though life was a weariness to her. But as her eyes fell on us, a sudden change came over her face, and she said **Léonie !” in a surprised, anxious tone. Then Léonie went towards her, trembling as she went, and holding out her hands, as the blind do, gropingly. “I am come,” she said—she faltered, she raised her heavy eyes tear-laden to heaven, as if for strength. “I am come,” she said again. ‘‘I have forsaken them for ever. Mother, I am yours— take me!” The words were a cry of anguish, and her hands, as she flung them forward, quivered. But Madame de St. Erme sprang towards her, and caught her in her arms as she fell. GOnlGaooks (CO)