Litchfield enquirer., 1878-03-14
From the Cornhill Magazine.l THE CHARS CLEMENCY; A POIIE] PRIESTS STORY. i :

It may have been owing to this omission, or because she had found other reasons to suspect my perpicacity; but the very next morning Paulina came and kneft in my confessional On the previous occasion of her coming to make her shrift she had accused herself of the sin of greediness for eating few strawber- ries between neals-and was prepared for repetition of solue triviality. But this time l she laid her heart bare in one sentence. '.Father" she said, ''I love Casmir Barin- ski" And it was you who obtained his pardon?" rejoined with mingled sentiments in which knew not whether it was angeroF pity that l predominated. 9t
 "Yes," she answered almost inaudibly, l through the grating.
 And you are still spy-a traitor? You contemplate playing the part of. Della again | towards this nan whom you have rendered l fatherless, and whom you have aged before his time? Tell me the truth. Out with it. :" | q am a spy,' she faltered; .'but by my hopes of salvation, father, if could become | Casmir Barinski's wife, 1 should be an honest woman I wish to atone for the evil have done My heart has never spoken as it has now. and 1 feel could die for this man. If he would take me for his wife would go away with him wherever he would" She rambled on in this way till l roughly checked her. bidding her i've me her comics sion in order, and, as she valued her soul not attempt to deceive me as to her proceedings in the past or her schemes for the future. She heaved deep sigh, so lamentable in sound | that it snlote me as reproach, for ln ones | dealings with the woman it was never possible | to know whether she might not be truly con- trite When the fear of the devil was upon her, or when she wanted to coax some favor l from her patron saint, she could be truthful by the hour, and upbraid herself with such virulent invectives as tempted one to cry Enough" She began by telling me that she | had loved Casimir from the moment of read ing his poems, and had applied for his pardon on the spur of her first impulse ofremorse. The pardon had been granted the more readily as some personages of high standing at court had also read the poems and had been touched by them; but condition had been put to Count Barinskis release, namely that Paulina should do her best to win the late exile into loyalty by offering him some lucrative secret-service employment if he would consent openly to forswear the Polish cause, and put his sigma l ture to document stating that the exiles in Siberia were treated with the utmost humanl- | ty. This document was to go the round of the Russophilist journals of Europe.
 | When 1 heard Paulina say that she had un. dertaken this job, and meant to proceed with | it, I knew that what she felt for Casimir Bar nski might be caprice, but could not be real | love, for a woman who loves a man does not begin by speculating on his dishonor. A few minutes before she had declared herself eager to forsake her present life and fly to the end of l the earth with the man whose wife she aspired to become but this inconsistency was after all consistent with the character of woman l who craved for nothing but material enjoy | ments, and had never let herself be hindered in any enterprise by principle. let her speak on, and piled her with some questions as to her political doings during the years when she | had hidden her conduct from me, but she an swered rather shortly that she had confessed these things elsewhere, and been absolved | from them. When, again, l tried to elicit in- | formation as to her present relations with the | police, she replied that, having recently gone on pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Elizabeth of Hungary in respect of her police tasks she was entitled to plenary indulgence, and was not bound to make me any disclosures. It was quite of piece with these views on religion | that she should have concluded by announcing | her intention of burning six wax tapers of pounds weight each before the Lady-altar so that her matrimonial projects might succeed. 1 told her dryly that she might save herself | that expense ''Casimir Barinski is going to be married to another," said l, land the best atonement you can make him is to leave him alone"
 "Ah !" was the answer blown to me through | inc grating, and her breath came and went in gasps.
 'sHe is going to marry Ioulka Zezioff, whom | he tenderly loves," added implacably. "As | for you, the affection he once bore you has | died away
 "But it can revive" she responded reSolute- ly. "No, it cannot" I calculated in wrath. | ''Be content with the respect he vouchsates you, and which you so i'll deserve. If you married Casimir Barinski without telling him what you are if would be an imposture that would carry Heavens curse with it. and if he knew you as do, he would spurn you with | his foot"
 ''Then you think that have freed this man | from Siberia to throw him into the arms of a | rival!" murmured Paulina, in tone that vibra- l ted.
 "You have done your best to kill patriot, aud do you dare to boast of having given him bis freedom ?" 1 exclaimed, exasperated. Out upon you for an impertinent profigate! All your thoughts are devilish, and your presence in this church is pollution p
 These were harsh words, but meant them to be so. There was waited to me through the grating the penetrating odor of perfume which Paulina used. could hear the rustic of her silk dress, and felt outraged to think that the gold wherewith this woman bought her finery, and paid for the tapers she offered desired to enrich Casimir-was blood money, counted to her for having sent Casimir's fla ther and brothers, with countless others, to death. I ceuld not see the countess through the wire grating, and of course our con- versation had been carried on in whispers ow- ing to the people who kept entering and leav- ing the church for short prayers during market hours. She remained silent moment, and then, without asking me for absolution, re- marked that her design to marry Casimir Bar l inski being laudable one, she should perse-
 were in the prosecution of it without minding Ioulka Zezioff. She was sorry for the bad opinion entertained of her, but begged to re-
 mind me that all she had just revealed having
 been communicated to me under seal of con fession, 1 was debarred from reporting word of | it to anybody This said-in tone of half menace, as fancied-she rose from her knees
 and her place in the confessional was almost
 immediately occupied by potter's wife, who
 had contrite avowals to make about the pecu-
 lations she committed in the course of busi-
 ness.
 knew but too we'll that Paulina Marienha
 had only made me her confession in order tc
 close my lips as to facts I might have suspect.
 ed and acted upon had she not told them me. For my dissolution she cared not doit, since
 she could go and obtain it of some more ac
 commodating priest, who took no such fiber
 ties in featuring her as 1 did; indeed, from
 words she let fall, had gathered that she wal
 in frequent consultation with priest who
 could be no true Pole, for he appeared to have
 assured her'that her treacheries were not cul
 pablo, but rather meritorious as proofs of sub
 mission to ''those in authority over us." 1 an
 sorry to say that there is no sin which canno
 be twisted into virtue by tortuous- minded
 priest, which reminds me of one who, anxious
 to get on in the world, solaced wealthy bu
 immoral lady by persuading her that it is not
 good to be too virtuous, seeing that excess O
 virtue leads us to pride-which is as much {
 deadly sin as that other sin whereof the sait
 lady had accused herself. Sin or not, I cer
 tainly had no right to put Casiniir on hi
 guard against the Countess Pauiina, with re
 gard to things derived from her own lips bu
 there was nothing to prevent my assisting Gas
 mir to leave the country, according to hi
 own wishes this determined to do withou
 any delay, for I felt that we were in a peri
 lous iuncture Oddly enough or should