diately joined the rebel army. With a corps of
volunteers he fought till the end of the war, and returned again to his
family. But he has still that worm in his soul.'"

It was well that the fire had already died out:--well that a dark cloud
rolled up before the moon:--well that the narrator could not see the
face of his listener, when he said that:

"And I was fool enough to believe him. I credited the calumny with which
the good fame of the angelically pure wife of an honorable man had been
defiled. Yes, I allowed myself to be deceived in this underhand way! I
allowed myself to rest calm in the belief that there is many a sad man
on the earth, whose wife is beautiful.

"Still, once I met by chance Aronffy's mother, and produced before her
the letter which had been accredited a fable. Her ladyship was very
grateful, but begged me not to say a word about it to Aronffy.

"I believe that from that day she paid great attention to her son's
behavior.

"Four years I had managed to keep myself at a respectful distance from
Sarvoelgyi's person.

"But there came a day in the year, marked with red in my calendar, the
anniversary of our departure from Heidelberg.

"Three days after that sixteenth anniversary I received a letter, which
informed me that Aronffy had on that red-letter day killed himself in
his family circle."

The narrator here held silence, and, hanging down his hands, gazed out
into the brilliant night; profound silence reigned in the room, only the
large "grandfather's clock" ticked the past and future.

"I don't know what I should have done, had I met the hypocrite then: but
just at that time he was away on a journey: he left behind a letter for
me, in which he wrote that he, too, was sorry our unfortunate
friend--our friend indeed!--had met with such a sad end: certainly
family circumstances had brought him to it. He pitied his weakness of
mind, and promised to pray for his soul!

"How pious.

"He killed a man in cold blood, after having tortured him for sixteen
years! Sent him the sentence of death in a letter! Forced the gracious,
quiet, honorable man and father to cut short his life with his own hand!

"With a cold, smiling countenance he took advantage of the fiendish
power which fate and the too sensitive feeling of honor of a lofty soul
had given into his hand; and then shrugged his shoulders, clasped his
hands, turned his eyes to heaven, and said 'there is no room for the
suicide with God.