mutual plight, given to her years before. My wounded heart
at its sight began to bleed again; but Thora, expressing a wish to M. de
Lacroix that she might return home, bowed to me with a forced smile and
swimming eyes, and I was spared the humility of showing how incompetent
I was to conceal my tears. As Thora walked away from me, I could not
help casting a lingering look towards a form that I once knew at
distance, however great, and that I had thought to have called my own. I
resumed my seat, and, giving expression to my anguish with sighs and
tears, I did not stir till evening roused me from my trance of
wretchedness. Length of time, sir, flew fast away, and heaped cares upon
my head; but the recollection of my youthful days was vivid still as
ever. No day dawned without a thought of Thora.

"One winter's evening I sat alone over my cheerless hearth, gazing
vacantly on the glowing embers, when a coal fell from a mass of others
which had formed themselves into a hollow body in the fire, leaving a
tinge of deeper red over the spot, in the midst of which the letter, T,
appeared indistinctly, fading and reappearing for some time, till, at
last it became as visible as the mark I make with my stick on this sand.
Another coal was driven suddenly with a loud noise, into the middle of
the room, and the little cavity collapsed. No sooner had I risen to
throw the coal into the grate again, than a gentle tap at my door
attracted my attention. I thought it might be my fancy, or the wind; but
the visitor seemed determined to gain admittance, and the tap was
renewed a little louder than at first. Rising, I opened the door, and an
old woman, who had been Thora's nurse, stood before me; and, with bitter
lamentations, she placed a small note in my hand. It brought the
dreadful tidings of Thora's sudden death.

"The mournful fact soon flew from end to end of Gottenborg, for Thora
was much loved; and people whispered that she had died unfairly. This
conjecture grew so strong, that a few days after her burial, Thora's
body was taken from the tomb, and, after the minutest examination, no
cause could be found to account for her death, but the Will of Heaven.

"A year came and went; and M. de Lacroix, wearied of his lonely
condition, married again. He did not live happily with his second wife;
and, from angry words, they were wont to come to blows. To be brief,
sir, Madame de Lacroix, died as suddenly and mysteriously as my poor
Thora. S