Page:Elizabeth, or, The exiles of Siberia (1).pdf/8

                                   8 “My father,” demanded Elizabeth, “where shall we find them?” “ Doubtless,” said he, “ in heaven ; but on earth, never—never!” On uttering these words, a gloomy anxiety clouded his face, and he let his head fall between his hands. After a pause, Elizabeth renewed the conversation :—“ My father, ” said she, “to-day I am seventeen—it was upon this day I received from you that existence which would be dear to me, if I could devote it to you. O, my parents, pardon the boldness of your daughter : but for once, during her life, she wishes to perform that towards you, which you have never ceased to do respecting her since she was born. Ah! deign at length to impart to her bosom the secret which preys within your own ?” “ What do you require of me ?” said Springer. “ I require,” said she, “ that you would instruct me in whatever it concerns me to learn, for the purpose of testifying my affection to you.” She now fell on her knees, and raised her eyes with all the expressiveness of supplication. So grand, so noble a sentiment now beamed from her eyes, filled with tears, and the heroism of her soul shed something so divine on the humility of her attitude, that Springer instantly saw the part his daughter meant to take. Oppressed at heart, he could neither speak nor weep, but remained motionless, as if in the presence of an angel— and that spirit which kings could not intimidate, became weak at the voice of his child, and could not resume its wonted strength. “ Why,” said Phedora to her husband, “do you refuse to confide our secret to her? Do you apprehend that the soul of our Elizabeth will be affected to weakness by the reverses we have seen ?”—“ No,” replied Springer, “it is not her weakness that I fear!” Elizabeth, at these words, found she was understood by her father, and she pressed his hand in silence, that she might be comprehended by him only, for she knew her mother’s tender heart, and wished to procrastinate the moment of an afflicting explanation. “Elizabeth,” said' her father, “yon have this day effaced twelve years of adversity.” “ While such sentiments,” replied she, “ are expressed here, never say that you cannot find happiness on earth. Speak, then, dear father, and let me know your real name, what your country, and what your griefs?” “ Misfortunes,” said he, "are now no more, my country is that where I1 reside with thee, my name, the happy father of Elizabeth.”— "O, my child !” interrupted Phedora, “ I can now love you still more ; you came to to the consolation of your father.” These words entirely overcame the remaining resolution of Springer; ha clasped his wife and daughter in his arms, crying, “ God forgive me—I have been ungrateful, but punish me not!” When the violence of this emotion had subsided, Springer pro-