awe of the creature
when but a moment's darkness separates one from the Creator. Speak
freely and fearlessly, Moyse."

"I ask," said Moyse, in a somewhat softened tone, "how you will answer
to my father for the charge he left you in me?"

"Not by revealing to him the vices of the spirit he gave me to guide.
If your father's heart must be broken for you, it shall be for having
thus lost a noble and gallant son, and not for--But it is no time for
reproach from me. Let me go now, my poor boy."

"Not yet, uncle. It is far from sunrise yet. How do you mean to report
of me to Genifrede? Will you make her detest me? Will you work upon
her fears--her fears of my ghost--to make her seek refuge with another?
Will you trample on the memory of the dead, to drive her into the arms
of some living lover, that you may no longer be reminded of the poor
wretch that you first fostered, and then murdered?"

"Leave us!" said Laxabon to Toussaint. "He is desperate. Leave him to
me, that he may not plunge deeper into sin with every word he speaks."

"Presently, father.--Moyse, what Genifrede hears of you will be
according to what Father Laxabon has to report of your last hours. Be
assured that I shall not interpose between you and her. It rests with
yourself to justify her love, and engage her affections to your memory.
She has been laid to sleep this night, not out of enmity to you, but to
save her brain. As Providence has decreed, it has also saved her life.
When she awakes, she will regard you as a martyr to a professional
necessity. A woman's love is sanctified and made immortal when baptised
in the blood of martyrdom. Hers may be so, if your last moments are
full of holy contrition, and purged from passion. Of Father Laxabon,
and not of me, will Genifrede inquire concerning you."

"This is kind--this is generous," said Moyse, looking wistfully in his
uncle's face.

"And now," said Toussaint, "I have to ask you to be generous to me. I
need and implore your pardon, Moyse. While you were yet weak and
wayward, I neglected the necessary watch over you. Too prone to ease
and satisfaction, for my child's sake and my own, I too soon concluded
you a man, and imposed upon you the duties of a man. Your failure is my
condemnation. I have cut short your discipline, and enabled you to
throw away your life. All this, and much more, am I answerable for.
Whether or not God may have mercy, can you yield me your pardon? I
implo