at
the door, or call, and be apprized of the nature of my visitant before I
entered? I approached and listened at the door, but could hear nothing.
I knocked at first timidly, but afterwards with loudness. My signals
were unnoticed. I stepped back and looked, but the light was no longer
discernible. Was it suddenly extinguished by a human agent? What purpose
but concealment was intended? Why was the illumination produced, to be
thus suddenly brought to an end? And why, since some one was there, had
silence been observed?

These were questions, the solution of which may be readily supposed
to be entangled with danger. Would not this danger, when measured by a
woman's fears, expand into gigantic dimensions? Menaces of death; the
stunning exertions of a warning voice; the known and unknown attributes
of Carwin; our recent interview in this chamber; the pre-appointment of
a meeting at this place and hour, all thronged into my memory. What was
to be done?

Courage is no definite or stedfast principle. Let that man who shall
purpose to assign motives to the actions of another, blush at his
folly and forbear. Not more presumptuous would it be to attempt the
classification of all nature, and the scanning of supreme intelligence.
I gazed for a minute at the window, and fixed my eyes, for a second
minute, on the ground. I drew forth from my pocket, and opened, a
penknife. This, said I, be my safe-guard and avenger. The assailant
shall perish, or myself shall fall. I had locked up the house in the
morning, but had the key of the kitchen door in my pocket. I, therefore,
determined to gain access behind. Thither I hastened, unlocked and
entered. All was lonely, darksome, and waste. Familiar as I was with
every part of my dwelling, I easily found my way to a closet, drew forth
a taper, a flint, tinder, and steel, and, in a moment as it were, gave
myself the guidance and protection of light.

What purpose did I meditate? Should I explore my way to my chamber, and
confront the being who had dared to intrude into this recess, and had
laboured for concealment? By putting out the light did he seek to hide
himself, or mean only to circumvent my incautious steps? Yet was it
not more probable that he desired my absence by thus encouraging the
supposition that the house was unoccupied? I would see this man in spite
of all impediments; ere I died, I would see his face, and summon him
to penitence and retribution; no matter at what cost an