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 them, felt as if they would rather have faced death than answered that command.

A dead, long, dreary pause—and Aram broke it. "Madeline Lester," said he, "prove yourself worthy of the hour of trial. Exert yourself; arouse your heart; be prepared! You are the betrothed of one whose soul never quailed before man's angry word: remember that, and fear not!"

"I will not—I will not, Eugene! Speak—only speak!"

"You have loved me in good report; trust me now in ill. They accuse me of crime—a heinous crime; at first, I would not have told you the real charge; pardon me, I wronged you: now, know all! They accuse me, I say, of crime. Of what crime? you ask. Ay, I scarce know, so vague is the charge—so fierce the accuser: but, prepare Madeline, it is of—murder!"

Raised as her spirits had been by the haughty and earnest tone of Aram's exhortation, Madeline now, though she turned deadly pale—though the earth swam round and round—yet repressed the