“‘Forget—and why? Who has dared to harm the child of my bosom, the heiress of my house?’
“She hid her face in my lap; she clung to my knees, moaning piteously.
“A vague remembrance seized upon me—that pale form shrouded in its golden hair—my heart was like ice. I bent down and whispered in the old woman’s ear:
“‘Who was it harmed my child?’
“She lifted her head with a wild outbreak of sorrow—my question almost drove her mad.
“‘Oh! lady, my master would let her come to your room—we were not to blame; you had always been so sweet-tempered and loving with her that we had no fear.’
“She stopped short, frightened by my looks. I whispered hoarsely:
“‘My child! my child!’
“That horrible pause was broken at last. She lifted her hands to heaven, the tears streamed down her face like rain.
“‘Do not ask—oh! my lady, I beseech you, do not ask.’