tantibus in ea_," replied the priest in a lower tone.
("And to all the inhabitants thereof.")

When they had entered, Hubertine, who had come up the stairs after them,
she also trembling from surprise and emotion, went and knelt by the
side of her husband. Both of them prostrated themselves most humbly, and
prayed fervently from the depths of their souls.

A few hours after his last visit to Angelique, Felicien had had the
terrible and dreaded explanation with his father. Early in the morning
of that same day he had found open the doors, he had penetrated even
into the Oratory, where the Bishop was still at prayer, after one of
those nights of frightful struggling against the memories of the past,
which would so constantly reappear before him. In the soul of this
hitherto always respectful son, until now kept submissive by fear,
rebellion against authority, so long a time stifled, suddenly broke
forth, and the collision of these two men of the same blood, with
natures equally prompt to violence, was intense. The old man had left
his devotional chair, and with cheeks growing purple by degrees, he
listened silently as he stood there in his proud obstinacy. The young
man, with face equally inflamed, poured out everything that was in
his heart, speaking in a voice that little by little grew louder and
rebuking. He said that Angelique was not only ill, but dying. He told
him that in a pressing moment of temptation, overcome by his deep
affection, he had wished to take her away with him that they might flee
together, and that she, with the submissive humility of a saint, and
chaste as a lily, had refused to accompany him. Would it not be a most
abominable murder to allow this obedient young girl to die, because she
had been unwilling to accept him unless when offered to her by the hand
of his father? She loved him so sincerely that she could die for him. In
fact, she could have had him, with his name and his fortune, but she
had said "No," and, triumphant over her feelings, she had struggled
with herself in order to do her duty. Now, after such a proof of her
goodness, could he permit her to suffer so much grief? Like her, he
would be willing to give up everything, to die even, if it might be, and
he realised that he was cowardly. He despised himself for not being at
her side, that they might pass out of life together, by the same breath.
Was it possible that anyone could be so cruel as to wish to torment
them, that they sho