"Don't say that!" exclaimed the boy, earnestly and hopefully. "God
teaches us, you know, not to be in despair, because without hope--hope
of becoming better--we can't be really repentant."
"I'm not repentant, certainly--I have no hope," rejoined Bressant. But,
even as he spoke the words, he was conscious of that within him which
contradicted them. Either the influence of the boy's gentle and trustful
spirit, or a new opening of his own inward eyes, had borne in upon him a
vision of hitherto unconsidered possibilities.
The boy seemed to read his thoughts. "You do not believe all you say,"
observed he. "Remember, it was because you repented of your dishonest
purposes toward Abbie, and felt that you had wronged your better self
with Cornelia, that you first resolved to give up Sophie, as being no
longer worthy of her, and that proved that your love for her at least
was noble and unselfish."
"But afterward--afterward I became worse than ever!" exclaimed Bressant,
who would not dare to entertain a hope until the full depth of his sin
had been brought forward for the pure and clear-sighted eyes of his
companion to look upon and judge. "When I found out my shameful
secret--when I learned what a thing I was, even with no sin of my own to
drag me down--I didn't care what crime I committed! A kind of evil
intelligence seemed to come to me. I saw that Cornelia loved me, and
that I had her in my power, so I went back to get her, to take her with
me to Europe. There was no repentance in that!"
"It would have been a terrible sin!" said the boy, with a slight
shudder. "But God prevented you from committing it."
"But I'm a thief still, and a coward, for I sneaked away in the night,
fearing to meet Sophie's eyes, and afraid to tell the professor what I
was and what I had done. I left all the burden of my sins to be borne by
women and an infirm old man, and I am going, with a stolen fortune, to
forget I ever had a heart or a soul."
"Are you going, and do you think you can forget?" asked the boy, with a
smile.
"Don't you give me up yet?" returned Bressant, trembling. "What is left
for me?"
"Why, every thing is left for you!" exclaimed the boy, his smile
brightening in his eyes. "You seem to forget that you haven't gone off
with any stolen money yet! You must begin at the next station, and
devote your whole life--no less will answer--to redeeming yourself. Only
be sure not to delay, and not to hesitate."
Bressant looked at his companion, and thought there was something divine
and unearthly almost in his manner, and especially in the light that
came from his gray eyes.