e deed.

Had it brought a certainty, this crime, then--why, then--she had found
a compensation for the risk she was running, for the pain she was
enduring, which she tried to believe was regret and pity for her victim.
Her anxiety redoubled when it occurred to her that Bigot, remembering
her passionate appeals to him for the removal of Caroline, might suspect
her of the murder as the one alone having a palpable interest in it.

"But Bigot shall never believe it even if he suspect it!" exclaimed she
at last, shaking off her fears. "I have made fools of many men for my
pleasure, I can surely blind one for my safety; and, after all, whose
fault is it but Bigot's? He would not grant me the lettre de cachet nor
keep his promise for her removal. He even gave me her life! But he lied;
he did not mean it. He loved her too well, and meant to deceive me and
marry her, and I have deceived him and shall marry him, that is all!"
and Angelique laughed a hysterical laugh, such as Dives in his torments
may sometimes give way to.

"La Corriveau has betrayed her trust in one terrible point," continued
she, "she promised a death so easy that all men would say the lady of
Beaumanoir died of heartbreak only, or by God's visitation! A natural
death! The foul witch has used her stiletto and made a murder of that
which, without it, had been none! Bigot will know it, must know it even
if he dare not reveal it! for how in the name of all the saints is it to
be concealed?

"But, my God! this will never do!" continued she, starting up, "I look
like very guilt!" She stared fiercely in the mirror at her hollow eyes,
pale cheeks, and white lips. She scarcely recognized herself. Her bloom
and brightness had vanished for the time.

"What if I have inhaled some of the poisoned odor of those cursed
roses?" thought she, shuddering at the supposition; but she reassured
herself that it could not be. "Still, my looks condemn me! The pale face
of that dead girl is looking at me out of mine! Bigot, if he sees me,
will not fail to read the secret in my looks."

She glanced at the clock: the morning was far advanced towards noon;
visitors might soon arrive, Bigot himself might come, she dare not deny
herself to him. She would deny herself to no one to-day! She would go
everywhere and see everybody, and show the world, if talk of it should
arise, that she was wholly innocent of that girl's blood.

She would wear her brightest looks, her gayest robe, her ha