"
"Poor Lisbeth, you at least love me still, I see!" said Valerie.
"Listen. I have only a day or two left to think, for I cannot say to
live. You see, there is nothing left of me--I am a heap of mud! They
will not let me see myself in a glass.--Well, it is no more than I
deserve. Oh, if I might only win mercy, I would gladly undo all the
mischief I have done."
"Oh!" said Lisbeth, "if you can talk like that, you are indeed a dead
woman."
"Do not hinder this woman's repentance, leave her in her Christian
mind," said the priest.
"There is nothing left!" said Lisbeth in consternation. "I cannot
recognize her eyes or her mouth! Not a feature of her is there! And
her wit has deserted her! Oh, it is awful!"
"You don't know," said Valerie, "what death is; what it is to be
obliged to think of the morrow of your last day on earth, and of what
is to be found in the grave.--Worms for the body--and for the soul,
what?--Lisbeth, I know there is another life! And I am given over to
terrors which prevent my feeling the pangs of my decomposing body.--I,
who could laugh at a saint, and say to Crevel that the vengeance of
God took every form of disaster.--Well, I was a true prophet.--Do not
trifle with sacred things, Lisbeth; if you love me, repent as I do."
"I!" said Lisbeth. "I see vengeance wherever I turn in nature; insects
even die to satisfy the craving for revenge when they are attacked.
And do not these gentlemen tell us"--and she looked at the priest
--"that God is revenged, and that His vengeance lasts through all
eternity?"
The priest looked mildly at Lisbeth and said:
"You, madame, are an atheist!"
"But look what I have come to," said Valerie.
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