Year: 1875

each day more and more MS end approaching,
wished impatiently to be relieved from this
disquietiug thought before his death.


The one who fought most obstinately against
this step, was the one who gained the most
thereby, viz: Lorenzo. Unmoved by the
charms of immense wealth Indifferent to the
possession of q charming creature that would
be surrendered to his arms, he denied himself,
with the most generous conscientiousness, to
rob brother who was, perhaps, still living,
and would yet return to enjoy his own. Is
not the fate of my dear Heronymo, said he,
through this long imprisonment, sufficiently
horrible? Must I, too, with theft, deprive
him of all that is dearest to him? With what
conscience or heart could pray to heaven for
his return when his wife lay in my arms
With what face could hasten to meet him,
when marvellous chance sends him back again
to US? And, ifindeed, he is forever taken from
us, hau can wa halter honor his n.onoory. tn" t"
by leaving forever unified the void which his
death has made in our circle2 Let us lay all
our hopes upon his grave as sacrifice, and
all that was his, let US leave untouched as a
holy thing


But all the reasons which brotherly love
and tenderness raised, availed nothing with
the old Marquis. He could not bear the idea
of seeing stock perish which had fourished
for nine hundred years.


All that Lorenzo could obtain from him,
was term of two years, before he should lead
the promised bride of his brother to the altar.
During this period the search should be still
zealously pressed.


Lorenzo, himself, made several voyages by
sea, and ransomed many out of bondage. No
labor, no cost, was spared in searching for the
missing one but these two years were as fruit
less as those that had gone before.


Antonie's condition was a fearful strife be-.
tween duty and feeling, hatred and admira-
ton. The unselish generosity of the broth
erly love touched her. She was torn with
contending emotions-compelled to reverence
and honor the man she could never love.
Harrassed with these contendng feelings, her
very heart bled; but still the dislike against the
chevaler appeared to increase, just as his claims
upon her esteem were enhanced. With deep
grief he watched the continual sadness which
was wasting away her youth. A tender COM
passion came, almost unobserved, in place of
the disipclination with which she had hitherto
regarded him. But this treacherous feeling
baftled and perplexed him, and a strong pas
sion began to make irksome to him the exer.
else of his virtuous selfdenial, which had thus
far resisted all temptation.


Still, even at the expense of his own heart
he resisted every suggestion of abandoning the
generous part he had taken. He, alone, stood
out against the unhappy sacrifice to be made
for the benefit of the family. But all his en-
deavors to this end miscarried. Every victory
which he had hitherto gained over his pas
sion showed him to her eyes only the more
worthy, and the compassion which he had
shown in his manner toward her, only served
to stregthen her feelings in this respect and to
rob her opposition of every excuse.


Thus stood the affair at the time the chew
alier persuaded me to visit him at his estate.
The warm commentator of my patron pro-
cured for me there reception, surprising
even my expectations.


l must be permitted to state that, owing to
some of my performances in my wonderful
art, had gained some celebrity among the
people of the place, which might induce the
old Marquis to con6de in me and to raise his
expectations to the highest pitch. How far |
had succeeded with him, and in what manner
l brought it about, pardon me for not inform
ing you.


From the narration which I have already
given you, you can readily conceive some
thing of them. When had made myself ia
miliar with the contents Of the mystical books
which l found in the large library of the
Marquis, l began to speak with him Of their
contents, and my system of the knowledge OF
the unseen world to bring into unison and ac-
cord with his own.


He very soon began to believe all that l
wished, and had even as great faith in the
marriage of Salamder and Sycpt, as taught in
the books, as he had in the canons of Scrip
ture. As he was very religious, and his dis
position to believe in this school of philosophy
had been cultivated to the extreme, my in
ventions found easy access to his credullty !;
and finally 1 had him SO encircled and bound
with mysticism, that nothing had any longer
credit with him which was merely natural.
In short time | became the worshipped
apostle of the house. The usual tenor of my
lectures was the exaltation of human nature,
and the intercourse with a being of higher
order-my warranter, the infallible Count de
Cabalis. The young Countess Antonio, who,
since the loss of her beloved one, lived more
in the spirit HeAd than the real, and who was
naturally Melancholy temperament, be-
gan to casf looks upon me with shudder.
The serva the house endeavored to find
something t6 do in the room, RAenever |
spoke, in order to catch a wF here and
there, which fragments they reto ~, after their
own manner, to one another.


About two months had thus Seen spent at
the residence of the Marquis, when one morn
ing the chevalier Lorenzo entered my room.
Deep grief was painted on his couutenance.
All his lineaments were perturbed. He cast
himself on chair, with gesture of despair.
Captain" said he, "it is all over with me.
must leave. can remain here no longer"


"What has happened, Chevalier? What
distresses you so?'


"This fearful passion" (Here he raised
himself hastily from the chair, and cast him
self in my arms.) II have striven like man
but now can strive no longer"


"On whom does it depend, my dear friend,
l said, "but yourself? Everything is in your
behalf -father-family-"


Father-family- what are they to me
Will have forced hand, or free inclina.
tion? Have not a rival?"


"At, and whom? A rival, perhaps, among
the dead"


"Oh, let me 60! Let me 60! will search
even to the end of the world but | will find
my brother! I must fiLd him p


"How, after 30 many failures, can you yet
hope?"


Hope! Hope has long since perished in
my heart but what of that? Of what con-
sequence is it, whether / hope or not? Can