would to God thy father could sink to forgetfulness with a mind like thine!"
Heart-struck by the last words of her father, Madeline remained many minutes riveted to the spot on which he had left her, deeply ruminating on them; then starting, as if from a deep reverie,
"I must not think, (said she) since thought is so dreadful."
She felt fatigued, but it was more a mental than a bodily fatigue—that fatigue which repels, instead of inviting rest; besides a secret dread clung to her soul, which rendered her unwilling to go to bed; she therefore threw herself before a large crucifix that was placed near it, and continued to pray for her father, for herself, and for repose to the spirit of the murdered Philippe, till day began to dawn through the shutters. With night her terror decreased, and undressing herself, she then retired to bed; but the sleep into which she soon fell was broken by horrid visions, and
