surprise, was seized with
an indescribable terror, and, instead of flying from the prince, advanced
several steps towards him, and said, in an agitated voice, whilst she
pointed to the kandjiar, "My friend, why are you here? what ails you? why
this dagger?"

Djalma made no answer. At first, the presence of Adrienne seemed to him a
vision, which he attributed to the excitement of his brain, already (it
might be) under the influence of the poison. But when the soft voice
sounded in his ears--when his heart bounded with the species of electric
shock, which he always felt when he met the gaze of that woman so
ardently beloved--when he had contemplated for an instant that adorable
face, so fresh and fair, in spite of its expression of deep
uneasiness--Djalma understood that he was not the sport of a dream, but
that Mdlle. de Cardoville was really before his eyes.

Then, as he began fully to grasp the thought that Adrienne was not dead,
though he could not at all explain the prodigy of her resurrection, the
Hindoo's countenance was transfigured, the pale gold of his complexion
became warm and red, his eyes (tarnished by tears of remorse) shone with
new radiance, and his features, so lately contracted with terror and
despair, expressed all the phases of the most ecstatic joy. Advancing,
still on his knees, towards Adrienne, he lifted up to her his trembling
hands, and, too deeply affected to pronounce a word, he gazed on her with
so much amazement, love, adoration, gratitude, that the young lady,
fascinated by those inexplicable looks, remained mute also, motionless
also, and felt, by the precipitate beating of her heart, and by the
shudder which ran through her frame, that there was here some dreadful
mystery to be unfolded.

At last, Djalma, clasping his hands together, exclaimed with an accent
impossible to describe, "Thou art not dead!"

"Dead!" repeated the young lady, in amazement.

"It was not thou, really not thou, whom I killed? God is kind and just!"

And as he pronounced these words with intense joy, the unfortunate youth
forgot the victim whom he had sacrificed in error.

More and more alarmed, and again glancing at the dagger en which she now
perceived marks of blood--a terrible evidence, in confirmation of the
words of Djalma--Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed, "You have killed some
one, Djalma! Oh! what does he say? It is dreadful!"

"You are alive--I see you--you are here," said Djalma, in a voice
trembl