I sank upon my knees; I clasped my hands, and lifted them up to her for mercy, but had no power to articulate a syllable.
She gazed upon me with angry eyes.
'Do I see a Penitent, or a Criminal ?' She said at length; 'Are those hands raised in contrition for your crimes, or in fear of meeting their punishment?
Do those tears acknowledge the justice of your doom, or only solicit mitigation of your sufferings?
I fear me, 'tis the latter!' She paused, but kept her eye still fixt upon mine.
'Take courage;' She continued: 'I wish not for your death, but your repentance.

The draught which I administered, was no poison, but an opiate.

My intention in deceiving you was to make you feel the agonies of a guilty conscience, had Death overtaken you suddenly while your crimes were still unrepented.

You have suffered those agonies: I have brought you to be familiar with the sharpness of death, and I trust that your momentary anguish will prove to you an eternal benefit.

It is not my design to destroy your immortal soul; or bid you seek the grave, burthened with the weight of sins unexpiated.