ere her father slept, and knocked; hearing no
answer, as usual, she knocked again.

"My father is not used to sleep in this way," thought Amine, when she
found no answer to her second call. She opened the door and went in.
To her surprise, her father was not in bed. "Strange," thought she;
"but I do not recollect having heard his footsteps coming up after he
went down to take away the lights." And Amine hastened to the parlour,
where, stretched on the sofa, she discovered her father apparently fast
asleep; but to her call he gave no answer. "Merciful Heaven! is he
dead?" thought she, approaching the light to her father's face. Yes, it
was so!--his eyes were fixed and glazed--his lower jaw had fallen.

For some minutes, Amine leant against the wall in a state of
bewilderment; her brain whirled; at last she recovered herself.

"'Tis to be proved at once," thought she, as she went up to the table,
and looked into the silver cup in which she had mixed the powder--it was
empty! "The God of Righteousness hath punished him!" exclaimed Amine;
"but O! that this man should have been my father! Yes! it is plain.
Frightened at his own wicked, damned intentions, he poured out more wine
from the flagon, to blunt his feelings of remorse, and not knowing that
the powder was still in the cup, he filled it up and drank himself--the
death he meant for another! For another!--and for whom? one wedded to
his own daughter!--Philip! my husband! Wert thou not my father,"
continued Amine, looking at the dead body, "I would spit upon thee? and
curse thee!--but thou art punished, and may God forgive thee! thou poor,
weak, wicked creature!"

Amine then left the room and went up stairs, where she found Philip
still fast asleep, and in a profuse perspiration.

Most women would have awakened their husbands, but Amine thought not of
herself; Philip was ill, and Amine would not arouse him to agitate him.
She sat down by the side of the bed, and with her hands pressed upon her
forehead, and her elbows resting on her knees, she remained in deep
thought until the sun had risen and poured his bright beams through the
casement.

She was roused from her reflections by another summons at the door of
the cottage. She hastened down to the entrance, but did not open the
door.

"Mynheer Poots is required immediately," said the girl, who was the
messenger.

"My good Therese," replied Amine, "my father has more need of assistance
than the poor wo