Then, suddenly reflecting on the great improbability of this relation, and fearing to be the dupe of Sarah, he cried, "No, no; it is a dream! it is impossible, you deceive me; it is some unworthy deceit!" "Rudolph, listen to me!" "No, I know your ambition--I know of what you are capable; I can fathom the object of this fabrication!" "Well! you speak the truth. I am capable of everything. Yes, I did wish to deceive you. Yes, some days before I received my mortal wound I did wish to find a young girl, whom I would have presented to you in the place of our child whom you regret so bitterly." "Enough--oh! enough, madame." "After this confession you will believe me, perhaps; or, rather, you will be forced to give credence to the proofs." "To the proofs?" "Yes, Rudolph; I repeat it, I have wished to deceive you, to substitute an obscure girl in the place of her we mourn; but Heaven willed that, at the moment when I was about to carry the project into execution, I should be stricken down." "You! at this moment!" "Heaven has also willed that they should propose to me to play this part--do you know whom? our daughter." "Are you delirious? In the name of heaven---" "I am not delirious, Rudolph. In this casket, among some papers and a portrait, which will prove to you the truth of what I say, you will find a paper stained with my blood." "With your blood?" "The woman who informed me that our child was still living dictated to me this revelation--then I was stabbed by a poniard." "And who was she? how did she know?" "It was to her our child was delivered--quite an infant--after having falsely reported her death." "But this woman--her name? can she be believed? where did you become acquainted with her?" "I tell you, Rudolph, that all this is fate--providential. Some months since, you rescued a poor girl from poverty, to send her to the country--is it not so?" "Yes, to Bouqueval." "Jealousy and hatred drove me wild. I caused this young girl to be carried off by the woman of whom I have spoken." "And she took the unhappy child to Saint Lazare?" "Where she yet is." "She is there no longer. Ah! you do not know, madame, the frightful evil you have caused by tearing this poor child from the retreat where I had placed her; but--" "The girl no longer at Saint Lazare?" cried the lady in alarm; "and you speak of a frightful evil!" "A monster of cupidity had an interest in her death. They have drowned her, madame; but answer, you say--" "My daughter!" cried Sarah, interrupting Rudolph, and rising on her feet, immovable as a marble statue. "What does she say? good heavens!" cried Rudolph. "My child!" repeated Sarah, whose face became livid and frightful from despair; "they have killed my child!" "The Goualeuse your child!" repeated Rudolph, recoiling with horror.