 sorrows which he had caused me: he pressed my hand to his lips, and expired.
My grief was inexpressible. As soon as its violence abated, I resolved to return
to Strasbourg, to throw myself, with my two children, at my father's feet, and
implore his forgiveness, though I little hoped to obtain it. What was my
consternation when informed, that no one entrusted with the secret of their
retreat was ever permitted to quit the troop of the banditti; that I must give
up all hopes of ever rejoining society, and consent instantly to accept one of
their band for my husband! My prayers and remonstrances were vain. They cast
lots to decide to whose possession I should fall. I became the property of the
infamous Baptiste. A robber, who had once been a monk, pronounced over us a
burlesque rather than a religious ceremony: I and my children were delivered
into the hands of my new husband, and he conveyed us immediately to his home.
    He assured me that he had long entertained for me the most ardent regard,
but that friendship for my deceased lover had obliged him to stifle his desires.
He endeavoured to reconcile me to my fate, and for some time treated me with
respect and gentleness. At length, finding that my aversion rather increased
than diminished, he obtained those favours by violence which I persisted to
refuse him. No resource remained for me but to bear my sorrows with patience; I
was conscious that I deserved them but too well. Flight was forbidden. My
children were in the power of Baptiste; and he had sworn, that if I attempted to
escape, their lives should pay for it. I had had too many opportunities of
witnessing the barbarity of his nature, to doubt his fulfilling his oath to the
very letter. Sad experience had convinced me of the horrors of my situation. My
first lover had carefully concealed them from me; Baptiste rather rejoiced in
opening my eyes to the cruelties of his profession, and strove to familiarise me
with blood and slaughter.
    My nature was licentious and warm, but not cruel: my conduct had been
imprudent, but my heart was not unprincipled. Judge, then, what I must have felt
at being a continual witness of crimes the most horrible and revolting! Judge
how I must have grieved at being united to a man, who received the unsuspecting
guest with an air of openness and hospitality, at the very moment that he
meditated his destruction! Chagrin and discontent preyed upon my constitution;
the few charms bestowed on me by nature withered away, and the dejection of my
countenance
