but it lost none of its horrors by being repeated. Alas, it told but too
plainly of the wreck his cruel words had made, and he trembled lest only
the beginning of sorrows was upon him. How he blamed himself for being so
rash and precipitate; and, as Eveline sunk back in exhaustion, the awful
thought kept forcing itself into his mind:

"If she dies, I am her murderer!" What a reflection for a parent over an
almost dying child! Who can measure the anguish it created in his breast?

There lay his precious child before him, prostrated by his own act,
hovering on the very brink of the grave, life trembling on a breath--and
he, oh, he might never whisper a word of comfort in her ear! Poor man! For
all this there was no repentance in his soul; it was only regret and
remorse--but oh, remorse how bitter! Not that his belief was changed as to
the guilt and innocence of the parties, for he still had confidence in
Duffel, and was fully persuaded of Hadley's evil intentions. He was glad
that the designs of the latter had been frustrated, but blamed himself for
the manner in which it had been done.

But the reflections of the unhappy man, whether of reproach, sorrow, or
regret, were ended for the time by another phase in the ever-changing
condition of the invalid. In tones expressive of the deepest wretchedness,
the daughter, once more arousing from the stupor of exhaustion, would
piteously exclaim, in low, sad accents, whose inexpressible woe pierced the
afflicted watcher's heart as with scorpion daggers:

"Gone! gone!--gone without a parting word or look! Gone, and my aching eyes
shall behold him no more! Gone, and the darkness comes over me! Oh, this
horrid gloom!--this load on my heart! Father! Charles! why do you both
leave me in this dreadful place?"