fearing to be
obliged to confess the infamy of my stepmother. At length,
concealing his head in his hands, he exclaimed, 'Oh, this is,
indeed, horrible!--impossible! Am I in a dream?'

"'No, it is no dream!' cried my stepmother, audaciously;
'nothing can be more real than this atrocious calumny, concerted
beforehand to destroy an unhappy woman, whose only crime is that
of consecrating her whole existence to you. Come, come, my dear,
do not remain a moment longer here!' she continued, addressing
my father; 'I do not suppose that your daughter will have the
insolence to retain you here against your will.'

"'Yes, yes, let me go!' said my father, highly excited; 'all
this is not true--cannot be true! I will not hear any more, my
brain cannot endure it. Fearful misgivings would arise in my
mind, which would embitter the few days I have still to live,
and nothing could console me for so horrible a discovery.'

"My father seemed to suffer so much, to be so despairing that,
at all hazards, I resolved on putting an end to this scene,
which was so acutely trying for him. Sir Walter guessed my
desire, but desirous of full and entire justice, he replied to
my father, 'But a few words more, M. le Comte. You will, no
doubt, suffer chagrin of a most painful kind, when you detect in
the woman's conduct, whom you believe attached to you by
gratitude, a system of most atrocious ingratitude,--in herself a
hypocritical monster. But you will find your consolation in the
affections of your daughter, who has never failed you.'

"'This passes all bounds!' cried my stepmother, with rage. 'And
by what right, sir, and on what proofs, dare you to base such
infamous calumnies? You say the phial contains poison? I deny
it, and will deny it until you prove the contrary. And even
supposing Doctor Polidori has by mistake confounded one medicine
with another, is that a reason why you should dare to accuse me
of having sought--desired to be his accomplice? Oh, no, no! I
cannot go on! An idea so horrible is already a crime! Once
again, sir, I defy you to say upon what proofs you and madame
here dare rely to support this shameful calumny!' said my
stepmother, with incredible audacity.

"'Yes, on what proofs?' exclaimed my poor father; 'the torture I
undergo must have an end.'

"'I am not here, sir, without proofs, M. le Comte,' rep