"Your daughter is accused of having killed her child," said the officer, much overcome at this scene.
"But it is not yet proved that she has committed this crime."
"Oh, no, it is not so, sir, it is not so," cried Louise, with force, and raising herself up: "I swear to you it was dead. It breathed no more; it was frozen; I lost all consciousness; that is my crime. But kill my child, oh, never!"
"Your child, wretch!" cried Morel, raising his hands to Louise, as if he wished to annihilate her with this gesture and terrible imprecation.
"Pardon, father, pardon!" cried she.
After a moment of frightful silence, Morel went on with a calmness still more frightful.
"Sir, take away this creature; she is not my child."
He wished to go out; Louise threw herself at his knees, which she embraced with both arms, and, with face upward, frantic and supplicating, she cried, "Father, listen to me, only listen to me."
"Officer, take her away, I abandon her to you," said the artisan, making every effort to disengage himself from the embraces of Louise.
"Listen to her," said Rudolph, stopping him; "do not be now without pity."