He was about to drink, but the young man could endure it no longer, and with a bound he sprang forward, snatched the glass from his father's hand, and hurled it from the window, shouting in a voice utterly unlike his own,-- "Do not drink." The Duke read the whole hideous truth in the face and manner of his son.
His features quivered, his face grew purple, and his eyes filled with blood.

He strove to speak, but only an inarticulate rattle could be heard; he then clasped his hands convulsively, swayed backwards and forwards, and then fell helplessly backwards, striking his head against an oaken sideboard that stood near.

Norbert tore open the door.
"Quick, help!" cried he.

"I have killed my father.".