abridge this interval by haste, and to waste all my
attention in furious gesticulations.

In this state of mind we reached my sister's door. She looked at the
windows and saw that all was desolate. "Why come we here? There is
nobody here. I will not go in."

Still I was dumb; but, opening the door, I drew her into the entry. This
was the allotted scene; here she was to fall. I let go her hand, and
pressing my palms against my forehead, made one mighty effort to work up
my soul to the deed.

In vain; it would not be; my courage was appalled, my arms nerveless. I
muttered prayers that my strength might be aided from above. They
availed nothing.

Horror diffused itself over me. This conviction of my cowardice, my
rebellion, fastened upon me, and I stood rigid and cold as marble. From
this state I was somewhat relieved by my wife's voice, who renewed her
supplications to be told why we come hither and what was the fate of my
sister....

The fellness of a gloomy hurricane but faintly resembled the discord
that reigned in my mind. To omit this sacrifice must not be; yet my
sinews had refused to perform it. No alternative was offered. To rebel
against the mandate was impossible; but obedience would render me the
executioner of my wife. My will was strong, but my limbs refused
their office.

That accents and looks so winning should disarm me of my resolution was
to be expected. My thoughts were thrown anew into anarchy. I spread my
hand before my eyes that I might not see her, and answered only by
groans. She took my other hand between hers, and pressing it to her
heart, spoke with that voice which had ever swayed my will and wafted
away sorrow:--

"My friend! my soul's friend! tell me thy cause of grief. Do I not merit
to partake with thee in thy cares? Am I not thy wife?"

This was too much. I broke from her embrace and retired to a corner of
the room. In this pause, courage was once more infused into me. I
resolved to execute my duty. She followed me, and renewed her passionate
entreaties to know the cause of my distress. I raised my head and
regarded her with steadfast looks. I muttered something about death, and
the injunctions of my duty. At these words she shrunk back, and looked
at me with a new expression of anguish. After a pause, she clasped her
hands, and exclaimed:---

"O Wieland! Wieland! God grant that I am mistaken! but something surely
is wrong. I see it; it is too plain; thou art undone--lost to me