Chapter 100

           Joy!

           Therewasthisundertheevergreenoak,whenitwasdiscoveredthatonlythesuicidewasasuccess,andtheattemptatassassinationafailure.TherewasthisintheheartofLouisePoindexter,onlearningthatherloverstilllived.

           Thoughsaddenedbytheseriesoftragediessoquicklytranspiring,shewasbuthuman;and,beingwoman,whocanblameherforgivingwaytothesubduedhappinessthatsucceeded?NotI.Notyou,ifyouspeaktruly.

           ThepassionthatcontrolledhermaynotbepopularunderastrictlyPuritanstandard.StillisitaccordingtothedictatesofNature—universalandirresistible—tellingusthatfather,mother,sister,andbrother,arealltobeforsakenforthatloveillimitable;onEarthonlyexceeded—sometimesscarceequalled—bytheloveofself.

           DonotreproachtheyoungCreole,becausethispassionwasparamountinhersoul.Donotblameherforfeelingpleasureamidstmomentsthatshouldotherwisehavebeendevotedtosadness.Nor,thatherhappinesswasheightened,onlearningfromtheastonishedspectators,howherlover’slifehadbeenpreserved—asitmightseemmiraculously.

           Theaimoftheassassinhadbeentrueenough.Hemusthavefeltsureofit,beforeturningthemuzzletowardshisowntemples,andfiringthebulletthathadlodgedinhisbrain.

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