Suddenly, she recollects herself--she shudders--she becomes as if frozen.

At the stroke of a fearful thought, all her little castle is demolished.

Alas! wretched girl, she dreamt of love, and love is forbidden to her.

Did not the sorcerer say she was sold to the evil one, and that man bold enough to seek her would find only death in the nuptial chamber?
She! must she behold Pascal dead before her?
Mercy, oh God! oh God, pity! And, bathed in tears, the poor child fell on her knees before an image of the Virgin.
"Holy Virgin," said she, "without thy aid I am lost; for I love deeply.
I have no parents, and they say I am sold to the demon.

Oh, take pity on me! save me, if it be true: and if it is but the saying of the wicked, let my soul know the truth; and when I offer thee my taper at the altar of Notre Dame, prove to me that my prayer is accepted." A short prayer, when it is sincere, soon mounts to heaven.