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line will never have any concealments from which you can disapprove: you seem ill yourself," observing his pale and haggard looks.
"At my being disordered (cried he), you cannot wonder after what has passed."
"Passed!" repeated Madeline, recoiling with horror at the idea of his having seen the hand.
"Yes (replied St. Julian), after what has passed,—after being cursed by my father."
"Cursed!" cried Madeline aghast.
"Did you not hear him curse me?"
"No, surely not (answered Madeline); I heard him curse, but———she paused—she hesitated.
"But whom?" demanded St. Julian impatiently.
"The murderer of his son," replied Madeline in a faint voice, and turning her eyes from her father.
