"Once more (cried he), I command you to tell me all that passed between you and D'Alembert; if you longer delay, you will work me up to frenzy."
Thus urged, Madeline, in scarcely intelligible accents, and still kneeling, revealed the dreadful conversation. After she had concluded, St. Julian continued some minutes silent, immovable, and in an attitude of horror which almost froze her heart. He then knelt beside her; and, wrapping his arms round her, strained her in convulsive agitation to his breast, and leaned his head upon her shoulder.
At length, raising it, he looked up to heaven—"Almighty God! (he cried) I bend before thy will; thy chastisement is just, though dreadful; and vain are the arts by which we would elude it. The hour of retribution, though sometimes delayed, is never forgotten. Oh, my child! dear pledge of a tender, though disastrous love! sweet
