As there is an exhaustion that forbids, not invites repose, so when the
mind is thoroughly on the rack, the common relief to anguish is not
allowed; the senses are too sharply strung, thus happily to collapse into
forgetfulness; the dreadful inspiration that agony kindles, supports
nature while it consumes it. Madeline passed, without a downward glance,
by the lifeless body of her sister; and walking with a steady step to
Walter, she laid her hand upon his arm, and fixing on his countenance
that soft clear eye, which was now lit with a searching and preternatural
glare, and seemed to pierce into his soul, she said,

"Walter, do I hear aright? Am I awake? Is it you who accuse Eugene
Aram,--your Madeline's betrothed husband,--Madeline, whom you once loved?
Of what? Of crimes which death alone can punish. Away! It is not you,
--I know it is not. Say that I am mistaken,--that I am mad, if you will.
Come, Walter, relieve me; let me not abhor the very air you breathe!"

"Will no one have mercy on me?" cried Walter, rent to the heart, and
covering his face with his hands. In the fire and heat of vengeance he
had not reeked of this. He had only thought of justice to a father,
punishment to a villain, rescue for a credulous girl. The woe, the horror
he was about to inflict on all he most loved: this had not struck upon
him with a due force till now!

"Mercy--you talk of mercy! I knew it could not be true!" said Madeline,
trying to pluck her cousin's hand from his face; "you could not have
dreamed of wrong to Eugene and--and upon this day. Say we have erred,
or that you have erred, and we will forgive and bless you even now!"
Aram had not interfered in this scene; he kept his eyes fixed on the
cousins, not uninterested to see what effect Madeline's touching words
might produce on his accuser. Meanwhile she continued: "Speak to me,