"Grave and important!" repeated Sarah, in a faltering voice, for,
notwithstanding her habitual immobility, in reflecting upon the immense
importance of the revelation she was about to make to Rudolph, she felt
herself more agitated than she could have thought possible. After a
moment's silence, Sarah, no longer able to restrain herself, cried,
"Rudolph, our child is not dead."

"Our child!"

"I tell you she lives!" These words, the accent of truth with which they
were pronounced, moved the prince to the very bottom of his heart.

"Our child!" he repeated, advancing hastily toward Sarah; "our child! my
daughter!"

"She is not dead; I have certain proofs; I know where she is--to-morrow you
shall see her."

"My daughter! my child!" repeated Rudolph, as if in a dream; "can it be
possible? is she alive?"

Then, suddenly reflecting on the great improbability of this relation, and
fearing to be the dupe of Sarah, he cried, "No, no; it is a dream! it is
impossible, you deceive me; it is some unworthy deceit!"

"Rudolph, listen to me!"

"No, I know your ambition--I know of what you are capable; I can fathom the
object of this fabrication!"