and scanty garment displayed rather than
concealed the symmetry of her delicate person. She flew to the fatal
bridge, threw herself on the body of her bleeding husband, and
imprinting her warm kisses on his bloody lips, for a moment or two
presented the image of one whose reason has fled for ever. Suddenly she
started from the earth; her face, her hands, and her garment so
saturated with the blood of her husband, that a feeling of horror crept
throughout the veins of all who beheld her. She stood upon the coffin,
and across the corpse--raised her eyes and hands imploringly to
Heaven--and then, in accents wilder even than her words, uttered an
imprecation that sounded like the prophetic warning of some unholy
spirit.

"Inhuman murderer!" she exclaimed, in tones that almost paralysed the
ears on which it fell, "if there be a God of justice and of truth, he
will avenge this devilish deed. Yes, Colonel de Haldimar, a prophetic
voice whispers to my soul, that even as I have seen perish before my
eyes all I loved on earth, without mercy and without hope, so even
shall you witness the destruction of your accursed race.
Here--here--here," and she pointed downwards, with singular energy of
action, to the corpse of her husband, "here shall their blood flow till
every vestige of his own is washed away; and oh, if there be spared one
branch of thy detested family, may it only be that they may be reserved
for some death too horrible to be conceived!"

Overcome by the frantic energy with which she had uttered these
appalling words, she sank backwards, and fell, uttering another shriek,
into the arms of the warrior of the Fleur de lis.

"Hear you this, Colonel de Haldimar?" shouted the latter in a fierce
and powerful voice, and in the purest English accent; "hear you the
curse and prophecy of this heart-broken woman? You have slain her
husband, but she has found another. Ay, she shall be my bride, if only
for her detestation of yourself. When next you see us here," he
thundered, "tremble for your race. Ha, ha, ha! no doubt this is another
victim of your cold and calculating guile; but it shall be the last. By
Heaven, my very heart leaps upward in anticipation of thy coming hour.
Woman, thy hatred to this man has made me love thee; yes, thou shall be
my bride, and with my plans of vengeance will I woo thee. By this kiss
I swear it."

As he spoke, he bent his face over that of the pale and inanimate
woman, and pressed his lips to