He was not the less my father, even if the Church spoke not on my side.

Despoiler of the orphan, and derider of human love, you are not the less a robber though the law fences you round, and men call you honest! But I did not hate you for this.

Now, in the presence of my dead mother--dead, far from both her sons--now I abhor and curse you.

You may think yourself safe when you quit this room-safe, and from my hatred you may be so but do not deceive yourself.

The curse of the widow and the orphan shall pursue--it shall cling to you and yours--it shall gnaw your heart in the midst of splendour--it shall cleave to the heritage of your son! There shall be a deathbed yet, beside which you shall see the spectre of her, now so calm, rising for retribution from the grave! These words--no, you never shall forget them--years hence they shall ring in your ears, and freeze the marrow of your bones! And now begone, my father's brother--begone from my mother's corpse to your luxurious home!" He opened the door, and pointed to the stairs.