take all, that it would be easy to gain more,--the ice of his
philosophy melted at once; the man broke forth, and, clasping Sibyll
to his heart, and kissing her cheek, her lips, her hands, he faltered
out, "No! no! forgive me! Forgive thy cruel father! Much thought has
maddened me, I think,--it has indeed! Poor child, poor Sibyll," and
he stroked her cheek gently, and with a movement of pathetic pity--
"poor child, thou art pale, and so slight and delicate! And this
chamber--and thy loneliness--and--ah! my life hath been a curse to
thee, yet I meant to bequeath it a boon to all!

"Father, dear father, speak not thus. You break my heart. Here,
here, take the gold--or rather, for thou must not venture out to
insult again, let me purchase with it what thou needest. Tell me,
trust me--"

"No!" exclaimed Adam, with that hollow energy by which a man resolves
to impose restraint on himself; "I will not, for all that science ever
achieved,--I will not lay this shame on my soul! Spend this gold on
thyself, trim this room, buy thee raiment,--all that thou needest,--I
order, I command it! And hark thee, if thou gettest more, hide it
from me, hide it well; men's desires are foul tempters! I never knew,
in following wisdom, that I had a vice. I wake and find myself a
miser and a robber!"

And with these words he fled from the girl's chamber, gained his own,
and locked the door.