Forget-me-not by Marjorie Bowen — Read

M. le Duc Decaze listened to a letter being read to him by his secretary. It had been inscribed with those entreaties of urgency which had caused him to select it from among his heavy correspondence. His eyes stared across the room with an inscrutable expression as the young man read aloud in a careful unemotional voice: 'Monsieur, weighed down by the terrible tragedy which has almost extinguished my life and reason, I have refused without hesitation several advantageous offers of a post, but to-day it is happiness itself which is offered me. I have not the strength to reject it without making a last effort to overcome my sad history. The generous man who wishes to give me his name knows all my story, has full confidence in me. If he were alone I should not have need of any human witness, but he belongs to a rich and well-considered family that cannot see him, without uneasiness, unite his destiny with mine. They are strangers to me, I have never seen them, nor can I hope that they will easily believe my vows and my tears. Monsieur, but I have no other proof to give them. The papers that were seized on my arrest have never been returned to me, the public only know that I was accused. Monsieur, can you in conscience declare that I was not the infamous wretch who was held up to the contempt of the world? You were there, you questioned me, you knew this miserable menage, you were present at his torments, at mine, you must have been able to understand the part that I played in this drama where I blindly worked out my fate. You know that neither ambition nor love of power could have given me the influence that I had over my unhappy pupils--You have read HIS letters and mine and you know that we did not love each other. Monsieur, I do not implore your pity but I call on your honour.

'The happiness of all my life depends on your reply. I tell you that because I know that it cannot influence your decision. I have the vanity to think that you recognised in me some force of character--you know that I will endure much in silence--whatever you write I will accept as the sincere judgment of a man as good, as generous as he is great in the eyes of the world, and I shall submit to it with the profound sentiment of gratitude and respect that I shall hold for you to my last breath.