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70 the soldiers would be death and insult in their worst forms. The whole province had been filled with tales of their reckless brutality towards those suspected by the government. One course remained—it was one she trembled to pursue. She had brought a little phial with her—it contained laudanum. It had been used by her father, who frequently suffered from a wound he had received. She had often dropped it for him. But she knew it was poison—she could not foresee what its effects might be upon her mother in her state, if she were to give her too much. Her blood froze in her veins at the thought. Donna Margaretta grew every moment more restless and angry at not being allowed to return to the house. If prevented by force, the screams she sometimes uttered in her paroxysms of rage were fearful, and must inevitably be heard. Besides, there was the chance of her evading their vigilance, and she would then fly, like an arrow, to the threatened danger. "I must try the only hope I have—God help me!" Beatrice went to the fountain, and in the wine and water mixed a portion of laudanum: her mother seeing the glass, asked for it eagerly,