thus accosted. And what a pair of soft blue eyes were there! They would have melted a heart of stone! A pearly tear trembled under each lid; the double expression of grief and of timidity now impressed upon her ingenuous countenance, added new charms to her beauty. When she saw that the person who addressed her was a man who seemed worthy of respect and confidence, she opened her coral lips and replied: “Worthy sir, heed not my sufferings, since ’tis not in your power to assist me. I am a wretch—a monster; I have murdered the man I love, and naught remains for me but to expiate my crime by tears and lamentations, until death shall end my misery.”
The benevolent traveller stood amazed. “Thou a murderess!” cried he; “can those angelic features be the mask of wickedness? Impossible! ’Tis true, mankind is a collection of knaves and villains, as I know to my cost; but that thou should’st not be an exception to the rule, is to me inconceivable; ’tis a perfect riddle.”
“I will explain it,” said the unhappy girl. “I had, as my beloved companion from childhood, the son of a worthy widow, our neighbour. When we grew up he called me, and I was happy in the title, his sweetheart, his betrothed; he was so good, so kind, so honest and true; he loved me so dearly, that I could not but love him truly in return. And now
