“`No! no!’ replied he, in the severest tone; `I would rather see you lifeless, than infamous and depraved.’

“`We have gone far enough, then,’ said I, catching hold of his arm; `take from me, in common mercy, my life! weary and odious and insupportable as it henceforward must be; for in the state of despair into which you now plunge me, death would be the greatest favour you could bestow—­a favour worthy of a father’s hand.’

“`I should only give you what you deserve,’ replied he; `I know fathers who would not have shown as much patience as I have, but would themselves have executed speedy justice; but it is my foolish and excessive forbearance that has been your ruin.’

“I threw myself at his feet:  `Ah!’ exclaimed I, `if you have still any remains of mercy, do not harden your heart against my distress and sorrow.  Remember that I am your child!  Alas! think of my poor mother! you loved her tenderly! would you have suffered her to be torn from your arms?  You would have defended her to the death!  May not the same feeling then be pardoned in others?  Can persons become barbarous and cruel, after having themselves experienced the softening influence of tenderness and grief?’

“`Breathe not again the sacred name of your mother,’ he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder; `the very allusion to her memory rouses my indignation.  Had she lived to witness the unredeemed profligacy of your life, it would have brought her in pain and sorrow to her grave.—­Let us put an end to this discussion’ he added; `it distresses me, and makes not the slightest change in my determination:  I am going back to my lodgings, and I desire you to follow me.’

“The cool and resolute tone in which he uttered this command, convinced me that he was inexorable.  I stepped some paces aside, for fear he should think fit to lay hands upon me.

“`Do not increase my misery and despair,’ said I to him, `by forcing me to disobey you.  It is impossible for me to follow you; and equally so that I should continue to live, after the unkind treatment I have experienced from you.  I, therefore, bid you an eternal adieu.  When you know that I am dead, as I shall soon be, the paternal affection which you once entertained for me may be perhaps revived.’

“As I was about to turn away from him:  `You refuse then to follow me,’ cried he, in a tone of excessive anger. `Go! go on to your ruin.  Adieu! ungrateful and disobedient boy.’

“`Adieu!’ exclaimed I to him, in a burst of grief, `adieu, cruel and unnatural father!’

“I left the Luxembourg, and rushed like a madman through the streets to M. de T——­’s house.  I raised my hands and eyes as I went along, invoking the Almighty Powers:  `O Heaven,’ cried I, `will you not prove more merciful than man!  The only hope that remains to me is from above!’