iderius spoke. The dumb passion which inflamed Madame Balnokhazy's
face, the convulsive terror on the features of the fatal adversary,
strove with each other to fill his heart with a great delight.

And Melanie? What had she felt during this narration, which made such an
ugly figure of the man to whom fate allotted her?

Lorand's eyes were intent upon her face too.

The young girl was not so transfixed by the subject of the tale as by
the speaker. Desiderius in the heat of passion, was twice as handsome as
he was otherwise. His every feature was lighted with noble passion. Who
knows--perhaps the beautiful girl was thinking it would be no very
pleasant future to be the bride of Gyali after such a scandal! Perhaps
there returned to her memory some fragments of those fair days at
Pressburg, when she and Desiderius had sighed so often side by side.
That boy had been very much in love with his beautiful cousin. He was
more handsome and more spirited than his brother. Perhaps her thoughts
were such. Who knows?

At any rate, it is certain that when Desiderius answered Madame's
question with such calm contempt--"I cast him out, I did not kill
him,"--on Melanie's face could be remarked a certain radiance, though
not caused by delight that her fiance's life had been spared.

Lorand remarked it, and hastened to spoil the smile.

"Certainly you would have killed him, Desi, had not your good angel,
your dear Fanny, luckily for you, intervened, and grasped your arm,
saying 'this hand is mine. You must not defile it.'"

The smile disappeared from Melanie's face.

"And now," said Desiderius, addressing his remarks directly to
Sarvoelgyi; "be my judge, sir. What had a man, who with such sly
deception, with such cold mercilessness, desired to kill, to destroy, to
induce a heart in which the same blood flows as in mine--to commit a
crime against the living God, what, I ask, had such a man deserved from
me? Have I not a right to drive that man from every place, where he
dares to appear in the light of the sun, until I compel him to walk
abroad at night when men do not see him, among strangers who do not know
him;--to destroy him morally with just as little mercy as he displayed
towards Lorand?--Would that be a crime?"

"Great Heavens! Something has happened to Mr. Sarvoelgyi," cried Madame
Balnokhazy suddenly.

And indeed Sarvoelgyi was very pale, his limbs were almost powerless, but
he did not faint. He put his hands behind him