When Fatima ceased speaking, Ferdinand was for a few moments silent, he found but little cause to congratulate himself on the discovery of a relation so nearly connected by blood; whose conduct, even by her own acknowledgment, had been so faulty and reprehensible; but when he viewed that face, whose every look reminded him of his dear and much regretted father, a rush of tenderness sprung to his heart, that obliterated her errors, and rising hastily, he was about to embrace her, forgetful of Heli's presence and uneasy conjectures; he who had needfully observed his emotions during Fatima's relation, and had watched him with an eye of suspicion, furiously rushed between them, darting a look of vengeance at Ferdinand, and muttering curses on her, roughly pulling her from her seat.
"Stop, Heli," cried Ferdinand; "judge not rashly from appearances.———Fatima is—my sister!"
The last word seemed unwillingly pronounced, and to Heli rather the effect of a
