His motion was of that tempestuous kind as to overwhelm the power of utterance, and found it easier to vent itself in gesticulations than in words.

At length he exclaimed,-- "'It is well.

Now has the hour, so long and so impatiently demanded by my vengeance, arrived.

Welbeck! Would that my first words could strike thee dead! They will so, if thou hast any title to the name of man.
"'My sister is dead; dead of anguish and a broken heart.

Remote from her friends; in a hovel; the abode of indigence and misery.
"'Her husband is no more.