Pagina 143 de 483

Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She

indeed gained the resignation she desired. But I, the true

murderer, felt the never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which

allowed of no hope or consolation. Elizabeth also wept and was

unhappy, but hers also was the misery of innocence, which, like a

cloud that passes over the fair moon, for a while hides but

cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish and despair had penetrated

into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within me which nothing

could extinguish. We stayed several hours with Justine, and it

was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tear herself away.

"I wish," cried she, "that I were to die with you; I cannot live

in this world of misery."