"Yes,"

was the reply" Come down!" Douglas soon put himself in a condition to leave his room, and give admission to his friend; confounded, however, at the reason of so untimely a visit. As the door opened, Lefevre pushed into the passage, and thence into the parlour, exclaiming, as Douglas remained to shut it, "Therethere-now I'm in-that's right!"

Douglas followed to the room, and observed him. His whole body was in a state of extreme agitation-a hopeless gloom strayed rather than rested on his countenance, while his eye rolled in strange wildness from object to object. Douglas questioned his safety in his presence. However, he preserved calmness of manner, and in silence continued to notice him; judging it wise to give him an opportunity of speaking, as this might, more than any thing, tend to relieve him.

Lefevre glanced upon him, and read the state of his mind. “O," said he, “there's nothing the matter with me, I hav'n't drank a pint of beer these three daysFeel my pulse-(baring his wrist)—But

I've seen strange things to-night!-but I'm safe here-don't you think I am? I knew you would protect me Douglas!"

Certainly I will," said Douglas, "Come, sit down, and compose yourself.” "Yes-but I'm safe here, a'nt I?"

"I believe you are perfectly safe with me. Come sit down, and, if any thing distresses you, tell me."

"Distresses me!-Ah!-I've seen

safe with you, and so I am!-I'm not very well—I think I shall die-my forehead's hot-very hot (placing his hand on it)but I wanted to see you-well, I'll tell you," (seating himself with a little more composure.)

"Do you believe in supernatural appearances Douglas?" he continued. "You know I did not-but I believed nothing.Well, let me tell you-As I lay a bed tonight, I saw a man's hand at the foot-post of my bedstead, waving like so (as he waved his hand.)-I rose in the bed-and then it was still-and pointed with the fore-finger-and disappeared. I lay down

and immediately it returned, beckoning as before. I arose again—and then it was still-and pointed as it had done and vanished. I lay down again-It came 'directly-and began beckoning. I started up-and it pointed again. What is it?" I said, 'Am I to go any where? It continued pointing.-'Where shall I go? To Sevenoaks?'-It still pointed.-' To Douglas?'-It began beckoning. "Well,' said I, I'll go I'll go to him directly→→ I'll tell him every thing!"-His eyes fell as he ceased, and he started from his seat, evidently struggling with some latent burden.

66

"Come, my dearCharles," said Douglas, pray be composed. I am glad to see you, and will do any thing in my power for you."

"It's too late-you are good-But call me not 'your dear Charles:' My name is Charles Lefevre. I am dear to nobody now! No-rejected-disgraced-insulted -ruined-forsaken of man and God !" i

"What then has happened? At least, Charles, I have not forsaken you !” ....

He was agitated. "No-but I have forsaken you-injured you! But I'll tell you-I came here on purpose to tell you!" Then clasping his hands and dropping his head, as if about to fulfil a painful resolution, he said-"You remember when you were at Plymouth writing to me, and bringing a charge against me?”

"You remember that I denied it

in the most solemn manner?"

chair.

"Yes."

"It was true notwithstanding."
"True!" cried Douglas, starting in his

He had the most unlimited confidence in Lefevre's veracity. It was in a moment destroyed, and he could not suppress this utterance of his astonishment. His mind was distressed. "O where," thought he, "shall I look for truth and honesty after this?"

Lefevre was too much engaged with himself to notice either his expression or countenance. He sullenly repeated, "True! yes it was true!" He paused. Douglas

could not speak. He resumed-"This lie has sunk like burning lead to the bottom of my soul! I could not die with it on my conscience. Now I am satisfied! I believe I shall die-I know I shall be damned!"

He spake like one, who thought, that this confession broke his last link with humanity-like one, who was waiting the summons to final punishment. Horror moved on his features; and the chair he occupied trembled with his emotion !"

"O Charles! said Douglas, "do you know what you are saying? Do you know what it is to be damned?"

With a voice and smile inconceivably unnatural and shocking, he replied-"Know what it is? I think I do! They who have suffered as I have these three nights, may easily know what is damnation."

Charles! Charles!-you must not talk so! This is language suited only to those spirits, who have fallen below hope!"

"And am not I below hope? Am not I like them? Do not I suffer the wrath of God? Do not I feel the unquenchable fires within me?