Remember that he will hound you out of his house in disgrace. Besancon will talk of the scandal.
You will be said to be absolutely in the wrong. You will never lift up your head again after that shame."
"That's what I ask," she cried, standing up.
"I shall suffer, so much the better."
"But you will also make him unhappy through that awful scandal."
"But I shall be humiliating myself, throwing myself into the mire, and by those means, perhaps, I shall save my son.
Such a humiliation in the eyes of all is perhaps to be regarded as a public penitence.
So far as my weak judgment goes, is it not the greatest sacrifice that I can make to God?—perhaps He will deign to accept my humiliation, and to leave me my son.
Show me another sacrifice which is more painful and I will rush to it."
"Let me punish myself.
I too am guilty.
Do you wish me to retire to the Trappist Monastery?
The austerity of that life may appease your God.
Oh, heaven, why cannot I take Stanislas's illness upon myself?"
"Ah, do you love him then," said Madame de Renal, getting up and throwing herself in his arms.
At the same time she repelled him with horror.
"I believe you! I believe you! Oh, my one friend," she cried falling on her knees again.
"Why are you not the father of Stanislas?
In that case it would not be a terrible sin to love you more than your son."
"Won't you allow me to stay and love you henceforth like a brother?
It is the only rational atonement. It may appease the wrath of the Most High."
"Am I," she cried, getting up and taking Julien's head between her two hands, and holding it some distance from her.
"Am I to love you as if you were a brother?
Is it in my power to love you like that?"
Julien melted into tears.
"I will obey you," he said, falling at her feet.
"I will obey you in whatever you order me.
That is all there is left for me to do.
My mind is struck with blindness. I do not see any course to take.
If I leave you you will tell your husband everything. You will ruin yourself and him as well.
He will never be nominated deputy after incurring such ridicule.
If I stay, you will think I am the cause of your son's death, and you will die of grief.
Do you wish to try the effect of my departure.
If you wish, I will punish myself for our sin by leaving you for eight days.
I will pass them in any retreat you like.
In the abbey of Bray-le-Haut, for instance.
But swear that you will say nothing to your husband during my absence.
Remember that if you speak I shall never be able to come back."
She promised and he left, but was called back at the end of two days.
"It is impossible for me to keep my oath without you.
I shall speak to my husband if you are not constantly there to enjoin me to silence by your looks.
Every hour of this abominable life seems to last a day."
Finally heaven had pity on this unfortunate mother.
Little by little Stanislas got out of danger.
But the ice was broken. Her reason had realised the extent of her sin. She could not recover her equilibrium again.
Her pangs of remorse remained, and were what they ought to have been in so sincere a heart.
Her life was heaven and hell: hell when she did not see Julien; heaven when she was at his feet.
"I do not deceive myself any more," she would say to him, even during the moments when she dared to surrender herself to his full love.
"I am damned, irrevocably damned.
You are young, heaven may forgive you, but I, I am damned.