at thrilled to the boy's heart. He checked himself
in his full career; he snapped his drawn sword in twain, he cast it
passionately from him, and uttering, convulsively, "Oh God, oh God, my
father!" flung himself in agony on the ground. With arms folded and the
smile of a demon on his lip the earl had awaited his attack, but there
was disappointment within, for his foul charge had failed in its
intended effect. Prouder, colder, more commandingly erect had become the
mein of the countess as he spoke, till she even appeared to increase in
stature; her flashing eyes had never moved from his face, till his fell
beneath them; her lip had curled, his cheek had flushed: powerful indeed
became the contrast between the accused and the accuser.

"Arise, my son," she said, "arise and look upon thy mother; her brow
even as her heart is unstained with shame; she fears not to meet the
glance of her child. Look up, my boy; I speak these words to _thee_, not
to that bold, bad man, who hath dared unite the name of a daughter of
Fife with shame. He hath no word either of exculpation, denial, or
assent from me. But to thee, my child, my young, my innocent child,
thee, whose ear, when removed from me, they may strive to poison with
false tales, woven with such skill that hadst thou not thy mother's
word, should win thee to belief--to thee I say, look on me, Alan--is
this a brow of guilt?"

"No, no, no, I will not look on thee, my mother! I need not to gaze on
thee to know the horrid falsity of the charge," answered Alan, flinging
his arms passionately around his mother. "Did I never see thee more,
never list that voice again, and did all the fiends of hell come around
me with their lies, I would not hear, much less believe such charge. No,
no! oh God, 'tis my father, speaks it! Father--and my hand is powerless
to avenge."

"I need not vengeance, my beloved; grieve not, weep not that thy hand is
chained, and may not defend thy mother's stainless name; I need it not.
My heart is known unto my God, my innocence to thee; his blessing rest
with thee, my beautiful, and give thee strength for all thou mayest
endure."

She bent down to kiss his brow, which was damp with the dew of intense
anguish. He started up, he gave one long look on her calm and noble
face, and then he flung himself in her arms, and sobbed like a child on
her bosom. It was a fearful moment for that woman heart; had she been
alone with her child, both nerve and spirit must