He made a soft
gesture with his hand, and the birds flew away.
'Speak on,' he said after brief reflection, and with the same
indulgence. 'He who tells all speaks not to man but to God.'
And Basil told all; told it with humble simplicity, with entire
truthfulness, recounting his history from the day when he first
beheld Veranilda to the dreadful hour when Marcian's blood stained
his hands. He began in calm, but the revival of emotions which had
slept during his sickness and his convalescence soon troubled him
profoundly. Not only did the dormant feelings wake up again, but
things which he had forgotten rushed into his memory. So, when he
came to the last interview with Veranilda, he remembered, for the
first time since that day, what he had said to her, and the
recollection dismayed him. He burst into tears, overwhelmed at once
with misery and shame.
'It may be,' he sobbed, 'that she was innocent. Suffering had driven
me mad, and I uttered words such as never should have passed my
lips. If she is guiltless, there lives no baser man than I. For I
reproached her--my father, how you will scorn me!--I cast at her
in reproach her father's treachery.
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