Wilhelm kept nothing back, neither the mad intoxication of the first
weeks, nor the bitter humiliation of the last. He disclosed Pilar's
passion and his own weakness, the pagan sensuality and the artifices
of the woman's insatiable love, and the unworthy part he had played
in her house before the servants and strangers. He spoke of his
tormenting doubts as to the justice of his actions, and concluded:
"And now, tell me, shall I answer this letter?"
"What are you thinking of?" cried Schrotter, when Wilhelm stopped
speaking, and looked at him in anxious expectation. "Your only plan
now is to keep dark. If, notwithstanding your silence, they write to
you again, I would advise you to burn the letters unread. That will
demand a certain amount of fortitude, no doubt, but as the letters
will come to my address, I will do it for you, if you authorize me."
Wilhelm tried hard to make up his mind.
"No, do not burn them unread," he said, after a pause; "open the
letters, and then judge for yourself, in each case, whether you will
let me know the whole or part of the contents."
"Always the same want of will power!" returned Schrotter. "First you
free yourself, and then have not the courage to burn your ships
behind you. Believe me, it is best that you should have no further
news from Paris, and after some months you can send for your things
through a third person.
Pages:
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544