spected of such infamy--and Mother Bunch,
for being a witness of the accusation--and himself, in order not to
survive such horrid treachery. But, oh wonder! his furious and bloodshot
gaze met the calm look of Adrienne--a look so full of dignity and serene
confidence--and the expression of ferocious rage passed away like a
flash of lightning.

Much more: to the great surprise of the princess and the young workgirl,
as the glances which Djalma cast upon Adrienne went (as it were) deeper
into that pure soul, not only did the Indian grow calm, but, by a
kind of transfiguration, his countenance seemed to borrow her serene
expression, and reflect, as in a mirror, the noble serenity impressed
on the young lady's features. Let us explain physically this moral
revolution, as consoling to the terrified workgirl, as provoking to the
princess. Hardly had the princess distilled the atrocious calumny from
her venomous lips, than Djalma, then standing before the fireplace, had,
in the first paroxysm of his fury, advanced a step towards her;
but, wishing as it were to moderate his rage, he held by the marble
chimney-piece, which he grasped with iron strength. A convulsive
trembling shook his whole body, and his features, altered and
contracted, became almost frightful. Adrienne, on her part, when she
heard the accusation, yielding to a first impulse of just indignation,
even as Djalma had yielded to one of blind fury, rose abruptly, with
offended pride flashing from her eyes; but, almost immediately appeased
by the consciousness of her own purity, her charming face resumed its
expression of adorable serenity. It was then that her eyes met Djalma's.
For a second, the young lady was even more afflicted than terrified
at the threatening and formidable expression of the young Indian's
countenance. "Can stupid indignity exasperate him to this degree?" said
Adrienne to herself. "Does he suspect me; then?"

But to this reflection, as rapid as it was painful, succeeded the most
lively joy, when the eyes of Adrienne rested for a short time on those
of the Indian, and she saw his agitated countenance grow calm as if
by magic, and become radiant and beautiful as before. Thus was the
abominable plot of the princess de Saint-Dizier utterly confounded by
the sincere and confiding expression of Adrienne's face. That was not
all. At the moment, when, as a spectator of this mute and expressive
scene (which proved so well the wondrous sympathy of those