"I am glad to hear you say so," said Cap.
"Miss Black, please hear this in palliation--I would not presume to
say in defense--of my conduct: I was driven to frenzy by a passion
of contending love and jealousy as violent and maddening as it was
unreal and transient. But that delusive passion has subsided, and
among the unmerited mercies for which I have to be thankful is that,
in my frantic pursuit of Clara Day, I was not cursed with success!
For all the violence into which that frenzy hurried me I have deeply
repented. I can never forgive myself, but--cannot you forgive me?"
"Mr. Le Noir, I have nothing for which to forgive you. I am glad
that you have repented toward Clara and I wish you well, and that is
really all that I can say."
"I have deserved this and I accept it," said Craven, in a tone so
mournful that Capitola, in spite of all her instincts, could not
choose but pity him.
He rode on, with his pale face, downcast eyes and melancholy
expression, until they reached a point at the back of Hurricane
Hall, where their paths diverged.
Here Craven, lifting his hat and bowing profoundly, said, in a sad
tone:
"Good evening, Miss Black," and, turning his horse's head, took the
path leading down into the Hidden Hollow.
"Poor young fellow! he must be very unhappy down in that miserable
place; but I can't help it.
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