"The voice of the man, of the father," said he, and his eyes became suffused with tears, "who charged you publicly with having denounced his son, and surrendered him to the executioners, with having killed him.
"Ah! God himself sends you hither," said the Count, with an indescribable accent of hope. "Yes, yes; you have heard all, and will be believed. Monsieur," said he, with great animation, "have you not heard all? You know how I have been treated by those monsters. You will say so. Tell me that you will. I cast myself at your feet to implore you."
"Count," said the Duke, lifting up Monte-Leone and embracing him, "I am the guilty man, for louder than any one I have uttered an anathema on the innocent. I have appealed to man and God for vengeance."
"Yes," said the Count, "and touched by the immensity of my sufferings God has led you hither."
"Yes, God," said the Duke, "and she;" pointing to La Felina, whose eyes brightened up with animation, strangely contrasted with the morbid palor of her face.
"She?" said the Count.
"Yes," said the Duke. "Stricken down by repentance, she besought me yesterday to come hither to hear her confession."
Scarcely had the Duke pronounced these words, than a cry of hatred, savage as that of the jackal, was heard in the next room.
"Save me, save me," said the Duchess, calling Monte-Leone to her, and sheltering herself behind his body, "He will murder me."
"He?" said the Duke and Count together.