st not compromise his parents and himself--a
mere passing liason, _a la bonne heure!_ but to stake his very heart's
blood, and to interfere with fire and sword, _allons donc!_--I do hope
you may be able to bring him to reason; and now you must excuse me, I
have a case coming on."

He had risen, while I still sat petrified by such a revelation; then he
called his servant, and after reciprocal assurances of high esteem, had
me shewn out. I tottered down the steps like a drunkard.

* * * * *

It was not for an hour afterwards--I needed a long circumbendibus
before I could take heart to bring this melancholy business to an
end--that I found myself knocking at Sebastian's door. A faint voice
bade me come in, and then I found the unhappy fellow lying dressed upon
his bed, and one glance at his disordered hair and attire shewed that
he had spent the night in that fashion. Before I could say a word, he
held out a letter that was open beside him on the pillow. A boy had
brought it very early in the morning, but had not waited for an answer.

Of course I do not pretend to give the exact words in which it was
couched, but their purport was as follows:

"You had scarcely left me when the idea struck me that the dispute of
which I was the miserable cause, might have fearful consequences. I
write to you to entreat and beseech you, if there were any earnestness
in the feelings you professed for me, to let the matter drop, and to
believe that in reality _I am not worthy_" (these words were doubly
scored) "that you should sacrifice yourself for me. Promise me that you
will try to forget me utterly. I am a poor lost creature, and only
death can deliver me. But I shall not die yet, so have no anxiety on
that head. I will try whether it be possible for me to live without my
misfortune dogging every step I take. I thank you for all your love and
kindness, and I never shall forget you. But do not attempt to find me
out. I am firmly resolved never to see you again, and you will only
increase my misery if you do not obey my wishes, but attempt to force a
meeting."

The letter had neither address nor signature, it was firmly written,
and there was not a mistake throughout.

I silently returned him the letter, not liking at that moment to tell
him that under the circumstances nothing could be more propitious than
such a decided step on her part. But I gradually discovered that
nothing in the letter