He turned away, and covered his face with his handkerchief. I saw his breast heave with suppressed sobs. It is an awful thing to see a strong man weep,--especially when the tears are wrung by the agonies of remorse. I felt for him the most intense pity,--the most entire forgiveness,--yet I recoiled from his approach,--I shrunk from the touch of his dry and nervous hand. I felt polluted, degraded, by the contact. "My mother told me, if I ever met you, to give you not only her forgiveness, but her blessing. She blessed you, for the sufferings that weaned her from earth and chastened her spirit for a holier and happier world. She bade me tell you, that in spite of her wrongs she had never ceased to love you. In obedience to her dying will, I have shown you a daughter's duty so far as to meet you here, and learn what I can do for one placed in the awful circumstances in which you declare yourself to be. Speak quickly and briefly, for on every passing moment the whole happiness of my life hangs trembling." "Only let me see your face for the few moments we are together, that I may carry its remembrance to my grave,--that face so like your mother's." "What can I do?" I exclaimed, removing the veil as I spoke,--for there was no one near; and I could not refuse a petition so earnest. "Oh, tell me quickly what I can do. What dreadful doom is impending over you?" "You are beautiful, my child,--very, very beautiful," said he; while his dark, sunken eyes seemed to burn me with the intensity of their gaze. "Talk not to me of beauty, at a moment like this!" I exclaimed, stamping my foot in the agony of my impatience. "I cannot, will not stay, unless to aid you. Your presence is awful! for it reminds me of my mother's wrongs,--my own clouded birth." "I deserve this, and far more," he cried, in tones of the most object humility. "Oh, my child, I am brought very low;--I am a lost and ruined man. Maddened by your mother's desertion, I became reckless,--desperate. I fled from the home another had usurped. I became the prey of villains, who robbed me of my fortune at the gaming table. Another, and another step;--lower and lower still I sunk. I cannot tell you the story of my ruin. Enough, I am lost! The sword of the violated law gleams over my head. Every moment it may fall. I dare not remain another day in this city. I dare not stay in my native land. If I do, yonder dismal Tombs will be my life-long abode." "Fly, then,--fly this moment," I cried. "What madness! to linger in the midst of danger and disgrace!" "Alas! my daughter, I am penniless. I had laid aside a large sum, sufficient for the emergency; but a wretch robbed me of all, only two nights since. Humiliating as it is, I must turn beggar to my child. Your husband is a Dives; I, the Lazarus, who am perishing at his gate." "Ask him. He is noble and generous. He will fill your purse with gold, and aid you to escape. Go to him at once. You know not his princely heart."