You cannot guess who was this creature; speak, good
and provident mother, speak! You do not guess?"
"No, I do not guess. Oh! leave me, leave me!"
"The 'unfortunate' was Fleur-de-Marie."
"Oh! merciful powers!"
"And you do not guess who was Fleur-de-Marie, irreproachable mother?"
"Kill me! oh! kill me!"
"She was La Goualeuse--your daughter!" cried Rudolph, with a heartrending
emotion. "Yes, this unfortunate, whom I had rescued from the violence of a
liberated galley-slave, was my own child--mine--Rudolph of Gerolstein's!
Oh! there was something in this encounter with my child, whom I saved
without knowing her, something terrible, providential; a recompense for the
man who seeks to succor his fellow-men, a punishment for the parricide."
"I die cursed and condemned," murmured Sarah, falling back in her chair and
concealing her face in her hands.
"Then," continued Rudolph, with difficulty restraining his feelings, and
wishing, in vain, to suppress his sobs, which almost choked him, "when I
had rescued her from the hands of her assailant, struck with the
inexpressible sweetness of her voice, the angelic expression of her
features, it had been impossible not to have become interested in her. With
what profound emotion have I listened to the touching recital of her life
of abandonment, of sorrow, and misery; for, do you see, there have been
frightful passages in the life of your daughter, madame.
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