I once more entreated him to inform me truly of their state.

To enforce my entreaties, I put on an air of insensibility.

"I can guess," said I, "what has happened--They are indeed beyond the reach of injury, for they are dead! Is it not so ?" My voice faltered in spite of my courageous efforts.
"Yes," said he, "they are dead! Dead by the same fate, and by the same hand, with their mother!" "Dead!" replied I; "what, all ?" "All!" replied he: "he spared NOT ONE!" Allow me, my friends, to close my eyes upon the after-scene.

Why should I protract a tale which I already begin to feel is too long?
Over this scene at least let me pass lightly.

Here, indeed, my narrative would be imperfect.