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 termined to go on, and try if she could be of any service to the person from whom the groan proceeded. At the bottom of the passage she perceived, what the darkness it was involved in had before concealed from her, a narrow stair-case in the side of the wall: this she eagerly ascended, and came to a small door half open; here she paused, and looking in, beheld, with equal horror and astonishment, an old woman wretchedly clad, and worn to a skeleton, kneeling in the corner of an ill-furnished room, before a wooden crucifix.

"Oh! heavenly father (the miserable object exclaimed, almost the moment Madeline had reached the door), may I, dare I, hope for thy forgiveness!—Oh! no, 'tis impossible thou canst ever grant it;—thou never canst forgive the wretch who caused the anguish of the most amiable of women—the misery and death of the most noble of men! Yet, if suffering could entitle me to mercy, I might hope for it.—Oh! if my blood can atone for that I caused to be shed, thou, thou shalt have it!"