my purpose can shake it."

These words were a sufficient explication of the scene. The nature of
his phrenzy, as described by my uncle, was remembered. I who had sought
death, was now thrilled with horror because it was near. Death in
this form, death from the hand of a brother, was thought upon with
undescribable repugnance.

In a state thus verging upon madness, my eye glanced upon Carwin. His
astonishment appeared to have struck him motionless and dumb. My life
was in danger, and my brother's hand was about to be embrued in my
blood. I firmly believed that Carwin's was the instigation. I could
rescue me from this abhorred fate; I could dissipate this tremendous
illusion; I could save my brother from the perpetration of new horrors,
by pointing out the devil who seduced him; to hesitate a moment was
to perish. These thoughts gave strength to my limbs, and energy to my
accents: I started on my feet. "O brother! spare me, spare thyself:
There is thy betrayer. He counterfeited the voice and face of an angel,
for the purpose of destroying thee and me. He has this moment confessed
it. He is able to speak where he is not. He is leagued with hell, but
will not avow it; yet he confesses that the agency was his."

My brother turned slowly his eyes, and fixed them upon Carwin. Every
joint in the frame of the latter trembled. His complexion was paler than
a ghost's. His eye dared not meet that of Wieland, but wandered with an
air of distraction from one space to another.

"Man," said my brother, in a voice totally unlike that which he had
used to me, "what art thou? The charge has been made. Answer it.
The visage--the voice--at the bottom of these stairs--at the hour of
eleven--To whom did they belong? To thee?"

Twice did Carwin attempt to speak, but his words died away upon his
lips. My brother resumed in a tone of greater vehemence--

"Thou falterest; faltering is ominous; say yes or no: one word will
suffice; but beware of falsehood. Was it a stratagem of hell to
overthrow my family? Wast thou the agent?"

I now saw that the wrath which had been prepared for me was to be
heaped upon another. The tale that I heard from him, and his present
trepidations, were abundant testimonies of his guilt. But what if
Wieland should be undeceived! What if he shall find his acts to have
proceeded not from an heavenly prompter, but from human treachery! Will
not his rage mount into whirlwind? Will not he tare limb from limb this
dev