yes, I am not deceived, that is the woman who sold us Pauline."
"Who, which?" exclaimed Edric eagerly.
"There," cried the Swiss, pointing to Marianne.
"Marianne!" exclaimed Edric.
"Yes," said she, "Marianne! He is right; it was I, and now is the moment of my vengeance. Seduced and deserted by this man," pointing to Father Morris, "my passions, always impetuous, panted for revenge. I instigated him to murder the wife for whom he had abandoned me—I stole his child and sold her to a stranger—and I substituted my own wretched offspring, whom I had had by a man he abhorred, in its place."
"What!" cried Father Morris, his livid lips quivering with anguish; "is not Rosabella my child?"
"No," said Marianne; "twenty years ago I sold your child to this gentleman," pointing to M. de Mallet. "He was a foreigner, and I believed, by placing her in his hands, you would never see her more."
