ol. The scene reminds us of a
poor wife, the hapless victim of a drunkard's home, drawing on herself
brutal treatment, when, in the lonely hours of midnight and in the
pent-up feelings of a breaking heart, she would incautiously reprove
the maddened retch who is reeling home to her under the fumes of
intoxication; thus Charles gave vent to feelings she had long nursed
in her bosom, and spoke in disrespectful language of reproof to her
intoxicated father.

Cassier had come from the carousals of the lodge. The fumes of the
old wines had reached his brain; the fearless and unexpected reproof
of Charles startled him. In an instant the demon of intemperance
reigned in his heart; without waiting to answer, he approached the
girl, gave her a severe slap on the face, and ordered her to her
apartments.

Charles and Henry retired to a sleepless couch, and their pillow was
moistened with many bitter tears before the dawn of the morning.

In a small spark commences the conflagration that destroys cities;
the broad river that flows with irresistible majesty through our plains
commences in a rivulet leaping and sparkling on the green hill-side;
the almighty avalanche that sweeps with the roar of thunder through
the Alpine ravines commences in a handful of loosened snow. Thus to
a thought, a guilty desire uncontrolled, may be traced the greatest
moral catastrophes.

A cloud passed over the thoughts of Charles. From the momentous evening
she received the rebuke of her father, her heart became the battle-field
of contending emotions. She brooded in silence over imaginary wrongs,
and thus gave to a latent passion the first impulse that led to
disastrous consequences. Diseased fancy lent a charm to thoughts long
forgotten, and recalled the pictures of pride and ambition that had
so often gilded the horizon of her young hopes. To be free and have
wealth, she thought, was worth swimming across a river of blood to
gain.

A temptation seized the thoughts of Charles. It clung to her like
the bloodsucker drawing fresh streams from young veins. Notwithstanding
her efforts to shake off the terrible temptation, and because she did
not seek aid in the sacraments of the Church, it lived and haunted
her in spite of her will. We tremble to write it--'twas to murder her
father.

Chapter XV.

Tragedy in the Mountains.

Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me f