for knowing whether or not his master had murdered his cousin."
The tale concluded, on which Floretta made many comments, a general silence ensued; it was now about the middle of the night, or rather the beginning of the morning, and the storm still raged with unabated violence. Madeline went to a window, and opened a shutter, to see whether the scene without was as dreary as fancy within had represented it to be, and found it, if possible, more so. The faint dawn o'er the western hills was overcast by heavy clouds, and the trees of the wood tumultuously agitated by the blast, which seemed threatening to tear them from the earth.
"How dreadful, how appalling is this hurricane (cried Madeline, as she leaned against the window). If it strikes such terror into a heart conscious of no crime, what fears, what horrors must it excite in one burdened with guilt. To such an one the war of the
