"Do you need sympathy?" asked he, eagerly.
"Sire, I am a daughter of Poland," replied she.
"And the Wielopolskas are among the noblest and richest of Poland's noble families."
"Noble! Rich! Our castles have been burned by the Russians, our fields have been laid waste, our vassals have been massacred, and of our kinsmen, some have died under the knout, while others drag out a life of martyrdom in Siberia."
"One of the Counts Wielopolska was a favorite of the king, was he not?" asked Joseph, much moved.
"He was my husband," replied she, bitterly. "Heedless of his countrymen's warnings, he believed in the patriotism of Stanislaus. When he saw his error, he felt that he merited death, and expiated his fault by self-destruction. His grave is in the Vistula."
"Unhappy wife!" exclaimed the emperor. "And had you no other kinsman?"
"I had a father and three brothers."
"You had them?"
"Yes, sire, but I have them no longer. My brothers died on the field of battle; my father, oh, my father!—God grant that he be no more among the living, FOR HE IS IN SIBERIA!"