CHAPTER VIII.
THE LITTLE GLASS BOTTLE.
In order to avoid being seen by Mademoiselle de Laurebourg, Daumon hadto take a much longer route to regain his home than the one that Dianahad followed. This, however, he could not help. As soon as he arrivedat his home he ran hastily upstairs and took from a cleverly concealedhiding-place in the wainscoting of his bedroom a small bottle of darkgreen glass, which he hastily slipped into his pocket. When he hadonce more descended to his office, he again took it out and examined itcarefully to see that it had in no way been tampered with; then, witha hard, cruel smile, he placed it upon his desk among his ledgers andaccount books. Diana de Laurebourg might pay him a visit as soon asshe liked, for he was quite prepared for her, for he had slipped on hisdressing-gown and placed his velvet skull cap upon his head, as if hehad not quitted the house that day.
"Why on earth does she not come?" muttered he.
He began to be uneasy. He went to the window and glanced eagerly downthe road; then he drew out his watch and examined the face of it,when all at once his ears detected a gentle tapping at the door of theoffice.
"Come in," said he.
The door opened, and Diana entered slowly, without uttering a word, andtook no notice of the servile obsequiousness of the Counsellor; indeed,she hardly seemed to notice his presence, and with a deep sigh she threwherself into a chair.
In his inmost heart Daumon was filled with the utmost delight; he nowunderstood why Diana had taken so long in reaching his house; it wasbecause her interview with the Duke had almost overcome her.
She soon, however, recovered her energy, and shook off the languorthat seemed to cling to her limbs, and turning towards her host, saidabruptly,--
"Counsellor, I have come to you for advice, which I sorely need. Aboutan hour ago--"
With a gesture of sympathy Daumon interrupted her,--
"Alas!" said he; "spare me the recital, I know all."
"You know----"
"Yes, I know that M. Norbert is a prisoner at the Chateau. Yes,mademoiselle, I know this, and I know, too, that you have just met theDuke de Champdoce in the Forest of Bevron. I know, moreover, all thatyou said to the old nobleman, for I have heard every word from a personwho has just left."
In spite of her strong nerves, Diana was unable to restrain a movementof dismay and terror.
"But who told you of this?" murmured she.
"A man who was out cutting wood. Ah! my dear young lady, the forest isnot a safe place to tell secrets in, for you never know whether watchfuleyes and listening ears are not concealed behind every tree. Thisman, and I am afraid some of his companions, heard every word that wasspoken, and as soon as you left the Duke the man scampered off to tellthe story. I made him promise not to say a word, but he is a married manand is sure to tell it to his wife. Then there are his companions; dearme! it is most annoying."
"Then all is lost, and I am ruined," murmured she.
But her despair did not last long, for she was by no means the womanto throw down her arms and sue for mercy. She grasped the arm of theCounsellor.
"The end has not come yet, surely? Speak! What is to be done? You musthave some plan. I am ready for anything, now that I have nothing tolose. No one shall ever say that that cowardly villain, the Duke deChampdoce, insulted me with impunity. Tell me, will you help me?"
"In the name of heaven!" cried he, "do not speak so loud. You do notknow the adversary that you have to contend with."
"Are you afraid of him?"
"Yes, I do fear him; and what is more, I fear him very much. He is adetermined man, and will gain his object at any cost or risk. Do youknow that he did his best to crush me because I summoned him to court onbehalf of one of my clients? So that now, when any one comes to me andwishes to proceed against the Duke, I am glad to decline to take up thematter."
"And so," returned the young girl in a tone of cold contempt, "afterleading us to this compromising position, you are ready to abandon us atthe most critical moment?"
"Can you think such a thing, mademoiselle?"
"You can act as you please, Counsellor; Norbert is still left to me; hewill protect me."
Daumon shook his head with an air of deep sorrow.
"How can we be sure that at this very moment the Marquis has not givenin to all his father's wishes?"
"No," exclaimed the girl; "such a supposition is an insult to Norbert.He would sooner die than give in. He may be timid, but he is nota coward; the thoughts of me will give him the power to resist hisfather's tyranny."
Daumon allowed himself to fall into his great armchair as thoughovercome by the excitement of this interview.
"We can talk coolly enough here and with no one to threaten us; but theMarquis, on the other hand, is exposed to all his father's violence andill treatment, moral as well as physical, without any defence for aidfrom a soul in the world, and in such times as these the strongest willmay give way."
"Yes, I see it all; Norbert may give in, he may marry another woman, andI shall be left alone, with my reputation gone, and the scorn and scoffof all the neighborhood."
"But, mademoiselle, you still have--"
"All I have left is life, and that life I would gladly give forvengeance."
There was something so terribly determined in the young girl's voicethat again Daumon started, and this time his start was sincere and notsimulated.
"Yes, you are right," said he, "and there are many besides myself whohave vowed to have revenge on the Duke, and their time will come, haveno fear. A quiet shot in the woods in the dusk of the evening wouldsettle many a long account. It has been tried, but the old man seemsto have the luck of the evil one; and if the gun did not miss fire, thebullets flew wide of the mark. A judge might take a very serious view ofsuch a matter, and term a crime what was merely an act of justice. Whocan say whether the death of the Duke de Champdoce might not save himfrom the commission of many acts of tyranny and oppression and rendermany deserving persons happy?"
The face of Diana de Laurebourg turned deadly pale as she listened tothese specious arguments.
"As things go," continued Daumon, "the Duke may go on living to ahundred; he is wealthy and influential, and to a certain degree lookedup to. He will die peacefully in his bed, there will be a magnificentfuneral, and masses will be sung for the repose of his soul."
While he spoke the Counsellor had taken the little bottle from besidehis account books and was turning it over and over between his fingers.
"Yes," murmured he, thoughtfully; "the Duke is quite likely to outliveus all, unless, indeed----"
He took the cork from the bottle, and poured a little of the contentsinto the palm of his hand. A few grains of fine white powder, glitteringlike crystal, appeared on the brown skin of the Counsellor.
"And yet," he went on, in cold, sinister accents, "let him take buta small pinch of this, and no one need fear his tyranny again in thisworld. No one is much afraid of a man who lies some six feet underground, shut up in a strong oak coffin, with a finely carved gravestoneover his head."
He stopped short, and fixed his keen eyes upon the agitated girl, whostood in front of him. For at least two minutes the man and the girlstood face to face, motionless, and without exchanging a word. Throughthe dead, weird silence, the pulsations of their hearts were plainlyaudible. It seemed as if before speaking again each wished to fathom thedepths of guilt that lay in the other's heart. It was a compact enteredinto by look and not by speech; and Daumon so well understood this, thatat length, when he did speak, his voice sank to a hoarse whisper, asthough he himself feared to listen to the utterance of his own thoughts.
"A man taking this feels no pain. It is like a heavy, stunning blow onthe forehead--in ten seconds all is over, no gasp, no cry, but the heartceases to beat forever; and, best of all, it leaves no trace behind it.A little of this, such a little, in wine or coffee, would be enough. Itis tasteless, colorless, and scentless, its presence is impossible to bedetected."
"But i
n the event of a _post-mortem_ examination?"
"By skilful analysts in Paris or the larger towns, there would be achance; but in a place like this, never! Never, in fact, anywhere,unless there had been previous grounds for suspicion. Otherwise onlyapoplectic symptoms would be observed; and even if it was traced therecomes the question, By whom was it administered?"
He stopped short, for a word rose to his lips which he did not dareutter; he raised his hands to his mouth, coughed slightly, and wenton,--
"This substance is not sold by chemists; it is very rarely met with,difficult to prepare, and terribly expensive. The smallest quantitymight be met with in the first-class laboratories for scientificpurposes, but it is most unlikely for any one in these parts to possessany of this drug, or even to know of its existence."
"And yet you----"
"That is quite another matter. Years ago, when I was far away from here,it was in my power to render a great service to a distinguished chemist,and he made me a present of this combination of his skill. It would beimpossible to trace this bottle; I have had it ten years, and the manwho gave it to me is dead. Ten years? No, I am wrong, it is now twelve."
"And in all these years has not this substance lost any of itsdestructive powers?"
"I tried it only a month ago. I threw a pinch of it into a basin of milkand gave it to a powerful mastiff. He drank the milk and in ten secondsfell stark and dead."
"Horrible!" exclaimed Diana, covering her face with her hand, andrecoiling from the tempter.
A sinister smile quivered upon the thin lips of the Counsellor.
"Why do you say horrible?" asked he; "the dog had shown symptoms of_rabies_, and had he bitten me, I might have expired in frightfultorture. Was it not fair self-defence? Sometimes, however, a man is moredangerous than a dog. A man blights the whole of my life; I strike himdown openly, and the law convicts me and puts me to death; but I do notcontemplate doing so, for I would suppress such a man secretly."
Diana placed her hands on the man's mouth and stopped a furtherexposition of his ideas.
"Listen to me," said she. But at this moment a heavy step was heardoutside. "It is Norbert," gasped she.
"Impossible! It is more likely his father."
"It is Norbert," cried Mademoiselle de Laurebourg, and snatching thelittle bottle from the Counsellor's hands, she thrust it into her bosom.The door flew open, and Norbert appeared on the threshold. Diana and theCounsellor both uttered a shriek of terror. His livid countenance seemedto indicate that he had passed through some terrible scene; his gaitwas unsteady, his clothes torn and disordered, and his face stained withblood, which had flowed from a cut over his temple. Daumon imagined thatsome outrage had taken place.
"You have been wounded, Marquis?" said he.
"Yes, my father struck me."
"Can it be possible?"
"Yes, he struck me."
Mademoiselle Diana had feared this, and she trembled with the terror ofher vague conjectures as she made a step towards her lover.
"Permit me to examine your wound," said she.
She placed both her hands at the side of his head and stood on tip-toe,the better to inspect the cut. As she did so, she shuddered; an inchlower, and the consequences might have been fatal.
"Quick," she said, "give me some rags and water."
Norbert gently disengaged himself. "It is a mere nothing," said he, "andcan be looked after later on. Fortunately I did not receive the wholeweight of the blow, which would otherwise have brought me senseless tothe ground, and perhaps I should have been slain by my father's hand."
"By the Duke? and for what reason did he strike you?"
"Diana, he had grossly insulted you, and he dared to tell me of it. Hadhe forgotten that the blood of the race of Champdoce ran in my veins aswell as in his?"
Mademoiselle de Laurebourg burst into a passion of tears.
"I," sobbed she, "I have brought all this upon you."
"You? Why, it is to you that he owes his life. He dared to strike me asif I had been a lackey, but the thoughts of you stayed my hand. I turnedand fled, and never again will I enter that accursed house. I renouncethe Duke de Champdoce, he is no longer my father, and I will never lookupon his face again. Would that I could forget that such a man existed;but, no, I would rather that I remembered him for the sake of revenge."
Again the heart of Daumon overflowed with joy. All his deeply malignantspirit thrilled pleasantly as he heard these words.
"Marquis," said he, "perhaps you will now believe with me that in allmisfortunes there is an element of luck, for your father has committedan act of imprudence which will yet cost him dear. It is very strangethat so astute a man as the Duke de Champdoce should have allowed hispassion to carry him away."
"What do you mean?"
"Simply that you can be freed from the tyranny of your father wheneveryou like now. We now have all that is necessary for lodging a formalplaint in court. We have sequestration of the person, threats and bodilyviolence by the aid of third parties, and words and blows which haveendangered life; our case is entirely complete. A surgeon will examineyour wound, and give a written deposition. We can produce plenty ofevidence, and the wound on the head will tell its own story. As acommencement we will petition that we may not be ordered back to ourfather's custody, and it will further be set forth that our reason forthis is that a father has assaulted a son with undue and unnecessaryviolence. We shall be sure to gain the day, and--"
"Enough," broke in Norbert; "will the decision give me the right tomarry whom I please without my father's consent?"
Daumon hesitated. Under the circumstances, it seemed to him very likelythat the court would grant Norbert the liberty he desired; he, however,thought it advisable not to say so, and answered boldly, "No, Marquis,it will not do so."
"Well, then, the Champdoce family have never exposed their differencesto the public, nor will I begin to do so," said Norbert decisively.
The Counsellor seemed surprised at this determination.
"If, Marquis," he began, "I might venture to advise you--"
"No advice is necessary, my mind is entirely made up, but I need somehelp, and in twenty-four hours I require a large sum of money--twentythousand francs."
"You can have them, Marquis, but I warn you that you will have to payheavily for the accommodation."
"That I care nothing for."
Mademoiselle de Laurebourg was about to speak, but with a gesture of hishand Norbert arrested her.
"Do you not comprehend me, Diana?" said he; "we must fly, and that atonce. We can find some safe retreat where we can live happily, where noone will harm us."
"But this is mere madness!" cried Diana.
"You will be pursued," remarked the Counsellor; "and most likelyovertaken."
"Can you not trust your life to me?" asked Norbert reproachfully. "Iswear that I will devote everything to you, life, thought, and will. Onmy knees I entreat you to fly with me."
"I cannot," murmured she; "it is impossible."
"Then you do not love me," said he in desponding accents. "I have beena thrice-besotted fool to believe that your heart was mine, for you cannever have loved me."
"Hear him, merciful powers! he says that I, who am all his, do not lovehim."
"Then why cast aside our only chance of safety?"
"Norbert, dearest Norbert!"
"I understand you too well; you are alarmed at the idea of the world'scensure, and----"
He paused, checked by the gleam of reproach that shone in Diana's eyes.
"Must it be so?" said she; "must I condescend to justify myself? Youtalk to me of the world's censure? Have I not already defied it, and hasit not sat in judgment upon me? And what have I done, after all? Everyact and word that has passed between us I can repeat to my motherwithout a blush rising to my cheek; but would any one credit my words?No, not a living soul. Most likely the world has come to a decision. Myreputation is gone, is utterly lost, and yet I am spotless as the drivensnow."
r /> Norbert was half-mad with anger.
"Who would dare to treat you with anything save the most profoundrespect?" said he.
"Alas! my dear Norbert," replied she, "to-morrow the scandal will beeven greater. While your father was talking to me with such brutalviolence and contempt, he was overheard by a woodcutter and perhaps bysome of his companions."
"It cannot be."
"No, it is quite true," returned Daumon. "I had it from the man myself."
Mademoiselle de Laurebourg shot one glance at the Counsellor; it wasonly a glance, but he comprehended at once that she wished to be leftalone with her lover.
"Pardon me," said he, "but I think I have a visitor, and I must hinderany one from coming in here."
He left the room as he spoke, closing the door noisily behind him.
"And so," resumed Norbert when alone, "it seems that the Duke deChampdoce did not even take the ordinary precaution of assuring himselfthat you were in privacy before he spoke as he did, and was so carriedaway by his fury that he never thought that in casting dishonor uponyou, he was heaping infamy on me. Does he think by these means to compelme to marry the heiress whom he has chose for me, the Mademoiselle dePuymandour?"
For the first time Diana learned the name of her rival.
"Ah!" moaned she between her sobs, "so it is Mademoiselle de Puymandourthat he wants you to marry?"
"Yes, the same, or rather her enormous wealth; but may my hand witherbefore it clasps hers. Do you hear me, Diana?"
She gave a sad smile and murmured, "Poor Norbert!"
The heart of the young man sank; so melancholy was the tone of hervoice.
"You are very cruel," said he. "What have I done to deserve this want ofconfidence?"
Diana made no reply, and Norbert, believing that he understood thereason why she refused to fly with him, said, "Is it because you have nofaith in me, that you will not accompany me in my flight?"
"No; I have perfect faith in you."
"What is it, then? Do I not offer you fortune and happiness? Tell mewhat it is then."
She drew herself up, and said proudly, "Up to this time, my consciencehas enabled me to hold my own against all the scandalous gossip that hasbeen flying about, but now it says, 'Halt, Diana de Laurebourg! You havegone far enough.' My burden is heavy, my heart is breaking, but I mustdraw back now. No, Norbert; I cannot fly with you."
She paused for a moment, as though unable to proceed, and then went onwith more firmness, "Were I alone and solitary in the world, I might actdifferently; but I have a family, whose honor I must guard as I would myown."
"A family indeed, which sacrifices you to your elder brother."
"It may be so, and therefore my task is all the greater. Whoever heardof virtue as something easy to practise?"
Norbert never remembered what an example of rebellion she had set.
"My heart and my conscience dictate the same course to me. The resultmust ever be fatal, when a young girl sets at defiance the rules andlaws of society; and you would never care to look with respect on oneupon whom others gazed with the eye of contempt."
"What sort of an opinion have you of me, then?"
"I believe you to be a man, Norbert. Let us suppose that I fly with you,and that the next day I should hear that my father has been killed in aduel fought on my account; what then? Believe me, that when I tell youto fly by yourself, I give you the best advice in my power. You willforget me, I know; but what else can I hope for?"
"Forget you!" said Norbert angrily. "Can you forget me?"
His face was so close to hers that she felt the hot breath upon hercheek.
"Yes," stammered she, with a violent effort, "I can."
Norbert drew a pace back, that he might read her meaning more fully inher eyes.
"And if I go away," asked he, "what will become of you?"
A sob burst from the young girl's breast, and her strength seemed todesert her limbs.
"I," answered she, in the calm, resigned voice of a Christian virginabout to be cast to the lions that roared in the arena, "I have mydestiny. To-day is the last time that we shall ever meet. I shall returnto my home, where everything will shortly be known. I shall find myfather angry and menacing. He will place me in a carriage, and the nextday I shall find myself within the walls of the hated convent."
"But that life would be one long, slow agony to you. You have told methis before."
"Yes," answered she, "it would be an agony, but it would also be anexpiation; and when the burden grows too heavy, I have this."
And as she spoke, she drew the little bottle from its hiding-place inher bosom, and Norbert too well understood her meaning. The young manendeavored to take it from her, but she resisted. This contest seemedto exhaust her little strength, her beautiful eyes closed, and she sanksenseless into Norbert's arms. In an agony of despair, the young manasked himself if she was dying; and yet there was sufficient life inher to enable her to whisper, soft and low, these words, "My onlyfriend--let me have it back, dear Norbert." And then, with perfectclearness, she repeated all the deadly properties of the drug, and thedirections for its use that the Counsellor had given to her.
On hearing the woman whom he loved with such intense passion confessthat she would sooner die than live apart from him, Norbert's brainreeled.
"Diana, my own Diana!" repeated he, as he hung over her.
But she went on, as though speaking through the promptings of delirium.
"The very day after such a fair prospect! Ah, Duke de Champdoce! You area hard and pitiless man. You have robbed me of all I held dear in theworld, blackened my reputation, and tarnished my honor, and now you wantmy life."
Norbert uttered such a cry of anger, that even Daumon in the passage wasstartled by it. He placed Diana tenderly in the Counsellor's arm-chair,saying,--
"No, you shall not kill yourself, nor shall you leave me."
She smiled faintly, and held out her arms to him. Her magic spells weredeftly woven.
"No," cried he; "the poison which you had intended to use on yourselfshall become my weapon of vengeance, and the instrument of punishment ofthe one who has wronged you."
And with the gait of a man walking in his sleep, he left theCounsellor's office.
Hardly had the young man's footsteps died away, than Daumon entered theroom. He had not lost a word or action in the foregoing scene, and hewas terribly agitated; and he could scarcely believe his eyes whenhe saw Diana, whom he had supposed to be lying half-sensible in thearm-chair, standing at the window, gazing after Norbert, as he walkedalong the road leading from the Counsellor's cottage.
"Ah! what a woman!" muttered he. "Gracious powers, what a wonderfulwoman!"
When Diana had lost sight of her lover, she turned round to Daumon. Herface was pale, and her eyelids swollen, but her eyes flashed with theconviction of success.
"To-morrow, Counsellor," said she, "to-morrow I shall be the Duchess deChampdoce."
Daumon was so overwhelmed that, accustomed as he was to startling eventsand underhand trickery, he could find no words to express his feelings.
"That is to say," added Diana thoughtfully, "if all goes as it shouldto-night."
Daumon felt a cold shiver creep over him, but summoning up all hisself-possession, he said, "I do not understand you. What is this thatyou hope will be accomplished to-night?"
She turned so contemptuous and sarcastic a look on him, that the wordsdied away in his mouth, and he at once saw his mistake in thinking thathe could sport with the girl's feelings as a cat plays with a mouse; forit was she who was playing with him, and she, a simple girl, had madethis wily man of the world her dupe.
"Success is, of course, a certainty," answered she coldly; "but Norbertis impetuous, and impetuous people are often awkward. But I must returnhome at once. Ah, me!" she added, as her self-control gave way for amoment, "will this cruel night never pass away, and give way to thegentle light of dawn? Farewell, Counsellor. When we meet again, allmatters will be settled, one way
or other."
The Parthian dart which Mademoiselle de Laurebourg had cast behindher went true to the mark; the allusion to Norbert's impetuosity andawkwardness rendered the Counsellor very unhappy. He sat down in hisarm-chair, and, resting his head on his hands, and his elbows on hisdesk, he strove to review the position thoroughly. Perhaps by nowall might be over. Where was Norbert, and what was he doing? he askedhimself.
At the time that Daumon was reflecting, Norbert was on the road leadingto Champdoce. He had entirely lost his head, but he found that hisreason was clear and distinct. Those who have been accustomed to thetreatment of maniacs know with what startling rapidity they form a chainof action, and the cloud that veiled Norbert's brain appeared to throwout into stronger relief the murderous determination he had formed. Hehad already decided how the deed was to be done. The common wine of thecountry was always served to the laborers at the table, but the Dukekept a better quality for his own drinking, and the bottle containingthis was after meals placed on a shelf in a cupboard in the dining-room.It was thus within every one's reach, but not a soul in the householdwould have ventured to lay a finger upon it. Norbert's thoughts fellupon this bottle, and in his mind's eye he could see it standing in itsaccustomed place. He crossed the courtyard, and the laborers, engagedin their tasks, gazed at him curiously. He passed them, and entered thedining-room, which was untenanted. With a caution that was not tobe expected from the agitation of his mind, he opened each doorsuccessively, in order to be certain that no eyes were gazing upon him.Then, with the greatest rapidity, he took down the bottle, drew the corkwith his teeth, and dropped into the wine, not one, but two or threepinches of the contents of the little vial. He shook the bottle gently,to facilitate the dissolution of the powder. A few particles of thepoison clung to the lip of the bottle; he wiped off these, not with anapkin, a pile of which lay on the shelf beside him, but with hisown handkerchief. He replaced the bottle in its accustomed place, andseating himself by the fire, awaited the course of events.
At this moment the Duke de Champdoce was coming up the avenue at a rapidpace. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, this man perceived thatone of his last acts had been insensate and foolish in the extreme. Allthe possibilities of the law to which Daumon had alluded struck the Dukewith over-whelming force, and he at once saw that his violent conducthad given ample grounds upon which to base a plaint, with results whichhe greatly feared. If the court entertained the matter, his son wouldmost likely be removed from his control. He knew that such an idea wouldnever cross Norbert's brain, but there were plenty of persons to suggestit to him. The danger of his position occurred to him, and at thesame time he felt that he must frame his future conduct with extremeprudence. He had not given up his views regarding his son's marriagewith Mademoiselle de Puymandour. No; he would sooner have resigned lifeitself, but he felt that he must renounce violence, and gain his ends bydiplomacy. The first thing to be done was to get Norbert to returnhome, and the father greatly doubted whether the son would do so. Whilethinking over these things, with a settled gloom upon his face, one ofthe servants came running up to him with the news of Norbert's return.
"I hold him at last," muttered he, and hastened on to the Chateau.
When the Duke entered the dining-room, Norbert did not rise from hisseat, and the Duke was disagreeably impressed by this breach of therules of domestic etiquette.
"On my word," thought he, "it would appear that the young booby thinksthat he owes me no kind of duty whatever."
He did not, however, allow his anger to be manifest in his features;besides, the sight of the blood, with which his son's face was stillsmeared, caused him to feel excessively uncomfortable.
"Norbert, my son," said he, "are you suffering? Why have you not hadthat cut attended to?"
The young man made no reply, and the Duke continued,--
"Why have you not washed the blood away? Is it left there as a reproachto me? There is no need for that, I assure you; for deeply do I deploremy violence."
Norbert still made no answer, and the Duke became more and moreembarrassed. To give himself time for reflection, more than because hewas thirsty, he took a glass, and filled it from his own special bottle.
Norbert trembled from head to foot as he saw this act.
"Come, my son," continued the Duke, "just try if you cannot find somepalliation for what your old father has done. I am ready to ask yourforgiveness, and to apologize, for a man of honor is never ashamed toacknowledge when he has been in the wrong."
He raised his glass, and raised it up to the light half mechanically.Norbert held his breath; the whole world seemed turning round.
"It is hard, very hard," continued the Duke, "for a father thus tohumiliate himself in vain before his son."
It was useless for Norbert to turn away his head; he saw the Duke placethe glass to his lips. He was about to drink, but the young man couldendure it no longer, and with a bound he sprang forward, snatched theglass from his father's hand, and hurled it from the window, shouting ina voice utterly unlike his own,--
"Do not drink."
The Duke read the whole hideous truth in the face and manner of his son.His features quivered, his face grew purple, and his eyes filled withblood. He strove to speak, but only an inarticulate rattle could beheard; he then clasped his hands convulsively, swayed backwards andforwards, and then fell helplessly backwards, striking his head againstan oaken sideboard that stood near. Norbert tore open the door.
"Quick, help!" cried he. "I have killed my father."