"Never," he says, in his account of this hateful action, "was wickedness further from me than at this cruel moment; and when I accused the poor girl, it is contradictory and yet it is true that my affection for her was the cause of what I did.

She was present to my mind, and I threw the blame from myself on to the first object that presented itself.

When I saw her appear my heart was torn, but the presence of so many people was too strong for my remorse.

I feared punishment very little; I only feared disgrace, but I feared that more than death, more than crime, more than anything in the world.

I would fain have buried myself in the depths of the earth; invincible shame prevailed over all, shame alone caused my effrontery, and the more criminal I became, the more intrepid was I made by the fright of confessing it.