"Maurice, for pity's sake!" supplicated Madeleine, extending her clasped hands toward him.
Maurice caught the outstretched hands in his, and bent over her with an expression of ineffable love irradiating his countenance.
"Do not speak yet, Madeleine; do not answer until you have heard me,--until you have well comprehended my meaning. You do not know the thousand perils by which a young man is beset in Paris,--the siren lures that are thrown in his way to ensnare his feet, be they disposed to walk ever so warily. You do not know that your holy image, rising up before me, shining upon the path I trod, and beckoning me into the right road when I swerved aside, has alone saved me from falling into that vortex of follies and vices by which men are daily swallowed up, and from which they emerge sullied and debased. You do not know that, while I am here beside you, listening to the sound of your voice, holding your hand, gazing upon your face, I feel like one inspired, who has power to make his life glorious and keep it pure! Madeleine, would you have me great, distinguished? I shall become so if it be your will. Would you have me lift up our noble name? It shall be exalted at your bidding. Would you reign over my soul and keep it stainless? It is under your angel guardianship. Madeleine, best beloved, will you not save me?"
Madeleine only answered with a look which besought Maurice to forbear.
"Is your rhapsody finished at last?" asked Count Tristan, scornfully. "Is any one else to be permitted to speak?"
"It seems there is but one person whose voice is of any importance to your son," sneered the countess, "and that is Madeleine. It is for _her_ to speak; it is for her to accomplish her work of base ingratitude; it is for her to give the last finishing stroke to the fabric she has secretly been laboring to build up for the last three years."
Madeleine--who, when the voice of Maurice was sounding in her ears, had been unable to control the agitation which caused her breast to heave, and her frame to quiver from head to foot, while confusion flung its crimson mantle over her face--grew suddenly calm when she heard these taunts. The same icy, pallid quietude with which, but a few moments before, she entered the library, returned. She withdrew the hands Maurice had clasped in his, lifted her bowed head, and stood erect, preparing to reply.