ss condition was hardly to protect
him from the instant punishment of his vile insinuation. With a deep
oath, Herrera half drew his sword, and made a step towards the
calumniator of his mistress. But his indignation, great though it was,
was checked in its expression, and entirely lost sight of, owing to a
sudden outbreak of the most furious and uncontrolled anger on the part
of the Count. His face, up to that moment so pale, became suffused with
blood, till the veins seemed ready to burst; his temples throbbed
visibly, his eyes flashed, his lips grew livid, and his teeth chattered
with fury.
"Scoundrel!" he shouted, in a voice which had momentarily regained all
its power--"scoundrel and liar! Assassin, with what do you reproach me?
Why did I cast you off, and when? Never till your own vices compelled
me. What promise did I make and not keep? Not one. Base traducer,
disgrace to the name you bear! so sure as there is a God in heaven, your
misdeeds shall meet their punishment here and hereafter!"
During this violent apostrophe, Baltasar, who, at Herrera's threatening
movement, had glanced hurriedly around him as if seeking a weapon of
defence, resumed his former attitude of indifference. Leaning against
the wall, he stood with folded arms, and gazed with an air of insolent
hardihood at the Count, who had advanced close up to him, and who,
carried away by his anger, shook his clenched hand almost in his
cousin's face. Suddenly, however, overcome and exhausted by the violence
of his emotions, and by this agitating scene, the Count tottered, and
would have fallen to the ground, had not Herrera and Torres hurried to
his support. They placed him in his chair, into which he helplessly
sank; his head fell back, the colour again left his cheeks, and his eyes
closed.
"He has fainted," cried Herrera.
The Count was indeed insensible. Torres hastened to unfasten his cravat.
"Air!" exclaimed Torres; "give him air!"
Herrera ran to the window and threw it open. Water was thrown upon the
Count's face, but without reviving him; and his swoon was so deathlike,
that for a moment his anxious friends almost feared that life had
actually departed.
"Let him lie down," said Torres, looking around for a sofa. There was
none in the room.
"Let us place him on his bed," cried Herrera. And, aided by Torres and
Paco, he carefully raised the Count and carried him into an adjoining
room, used as a bedchamber. Baltasar remained in the s
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