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 The most violent rage took possession of D'Alembert at those words; but the terror which his rage inspired, was trifling to the shock which Madeline received, when in his inflamed countenance she traced the dreadful countenance of him beneath whose poignard she had trembled at midnight in the ruined monastery of Valdore.

"Oh! God (she cried, starting back), do I behold the murderer of the Countess?"

The crimson of D'Alembert's cheek faded at those words; his eyes lost their fury, and he trembled, but in a minute almost he recovered from his confusion. "Insolent girl! (cried he, stepping fiercely to Madeline), of what new crime will you next accuse me? Beware how you provoke me; do not go too far, lest you tempt me to retaliate—retaliate in a manner most dreadful to you—on your father."

"He is beyond your power (exclaimed Madeline, with a wild scream, and clasping