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and put a bading, he s the daily regula Che provisos compaties. At earliest dawn ine Bar die doe. The whole day long he is be By epont about the property. Accompanied Se ispannt, be visis every pat of it; sets all thing às poles win; and makes such careful provision ir die Sown as wells to imply the purpose

ain. This time he does not return. Three days er his departure, the coachman who drove him re comes back with a letter which he is charged deliver to the old count. In this letter Edmond es leave of his family in terms which indicate, fly by the exaggerated effort to conceal it, a v70grief, violently repressed.

With vehement bitterness of reproach, and in words incoherent, he accuses himself of the death of brother. Life has become to him an intolerable len. He can not hope for relief of mind so long he is surrounded by scenes which remind him hour of that terrible accident. He annoRDOUS eparture for St. Petersburg. It is his intention roll himself in the Russian army, now ca active in the Caucasus. If he should not return, be res his father, and mother, and Juliet to let their veness rest upon his memory, etc., etc. one of the family is much surprised at this decis nor at the language in which it is announced hough Edmond has nothing whatever where proach himself, yet it is easy to understand how urally, how inevitably the mere fact of hang hen witness of a calamity so sudden, and of im was so nearly related and so dear to the s or, must have planted into every bleeding memory rns which a conscience so delicate and a T Were in the criticism of itelf as the of cont uld be impelled rather to dive deeper t dicate. All had felt the shale ange of scene for Edmond Butham ave chosen a remedy to sharp would devinam

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All this while we were about Edmond. He soon came to himself, and none but I had any suspicion of the true cause of his fall. I, however, who had seen one of these seizures already, could have no doubt as to the nature of this one. For the rest, thank God! he was not in the least hurt. Before the groom could come back with another carriage, we had time to examine the landslip. The wall to the right, along the new road, is only just built. The workmen had not given it sufficient support. It had broken down, and a vast fragment of rock, which had been displaced to make room for the road, had fallen with it, just at the moment when, but for Edmond's accident, we should all have been passing under it, and must in that case have been infallibly crushed to death."

CHAPTER V.
EDMOND'S RELIGION.

I NEED add nothing to these extracts. Here, then, is the point to which this unhappy man was come. No matter how strongly he might strive against it, he remained a prey to the mysterious action of a Power unknown to those around him, and incredible to himself.

In vain (his journal proves it) did he endeavor by every means in his power to convince himself of the impossibility of apparitions.

THE HAND was there.

The spectral amethyst still smote him with its violet rays.

Not by exbring it be

Not always. Not when he wished it. pressly exciting his imagination could he fore him. For this he had often tried. Since, if he succeeded in this (he thought), then the spell would be broken; then he might analyze the nature of the vision, investigate the causes and conditions of it, and rest sure that whatever he was able to evoke by power of will, he should always be able to dismiss by the same power.

Not being able to do this, he hoped to accustom himself to this spectral visitant which he could neither summon nor exclude; and he labored to render the thought of it familiar to his mind. Labor lost!

When the last apparition already seemed to him as a half-forgotten dream; when, in the full enjoyment of untroubled health, and the clear consciousness of intellectual power, he might reasonably assume that he had fairly rid himself of a temporary nervous irritability, then, by ways the most unexpected, and ever with increased significance, IT returned.

In the mid-heart of the barbarous battle, in the treacherous solitude of the mountain ambush, had he not seen that hand put aside the gun that was leveled at his head? Among the balmy autumn woods at L, when not the shadow of a cloud in heaven gave omen of the sure destruction to which a hundred paces farther must have brought him, had he not recognized the lurid ring upon the stretched forefinger of that posted arm, imperatively warning him back? And once before, over the chessboard, when he had boasted to his own heart that Juliet could not escape him, had it not crossed his game, and found a means to let him understand that it, the Spectre, would know how to balk him?

Would the thing execute its menace? Would his be always the only eye to see the apparition? Or would it, at some later time, reveal itself also to others? These were the doubts that assailed him. So must he live on.

He had built up for himself an elaborate edifice of internal law, suggested by, and based upon, the analogy of the visible organism of forces acting on external nature. In this system the relations of cause and effect were so close as to admit no place for passivity. Action only was considered capable of consequence.

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