118 THE SHIPWRECK,

such as the angels rejoice to witness; and the count nei-
ther feared to shed them, nor cared to hide them from
Philip. é

« Can you pardon me, Merville ?” he exclaimed.

“ Ah! my lord,” rejoined Philip, “far more than you
have I reason to beg for pardon. We both did wrong in
yielding to our irascible tempers ; and if you repent of your
share as sincerely as I do of mine, we may hope to be
henceforth acceptable in the eyes of our Father above, to
whom hatred and vengeance are supremely displeasing.”

' & Merville,” said the count, “you are too generous. Oh
how could I have persecuted a heart so noble !”

“ Forbear from self-accusation, my lord; you are as yet
entirely too weak to continue so painful a conversation,” —
said Philip, noticing the deadly paleness of the count.

“No,” said the count, “ I feel that my mind is wander-
ing—this perhaps is my last interval of reason, and I must
profit from it to assure you that I die in peace with you.
Pray for me, Philip—my crimes are so many that I hardly
dare hope pardon. God, I am sure, will not refuse you if
you be so charitable as to recommend me to his mercy:
and when I am no more, forget not him who was so un-
happy as to hate you.”

His tears obliged him to be silent for some time : he then