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 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, Walter—dear Walter, speak to me! Are you, my cousin, my playfellow—are you the one to blight our hopes—to dash our joys, to bring dread and terror into a home so lately all peace and sunshine—your own home—your childhood's home? What have you done, what have you dared to do?—accuse him—of what? Murder! speak, speak.—Murder, ha! ha!—murder! nay, not so!—you would not venture to come here—you would not let me take your hand—you would not look us, your uncle, your more than sisters, in the face, if you could nurse in your heart this lie—this black—horrid lie!"

Walter withdrew his hands—and as he turned his face said,—

"Let him prove his innocence, pray God he do!—I am not his accuser, Madeline. His accusers are the bones of my dead father!—Save these,