I have with joy accorded to his wishes, and here, my Lord, I ratify the gift," putting her hand into mine, as I bowed profoundly before her. She started up, trembled, and strove to disengage her hand as I pressed it to my lips: "My Father! my Lord!" cried she, extremely agitated, "spare me, O, spare me, I cannot, indeed I cannot!"———
"Cannot what?" exclaimed the Count, with a wrathful countenance: "Dare you resist my will? Can you refuse the hand of your benefactor, the hand that saved your father's life? Ungrateful girl! cold and insensible to the honour you ought to receive with transports! Teach your tongue a different language, learn to be grateful, and obey my commands." He had scarcely pronounced those last words, when she fell lifeless before us.
The Count was excessively enraged: I was wounded to my very soul, yet called for that assistance he would have denied to her. She was carried to her apartment. "Pardon a foolish wayward girl (said he;) perhaps
