nger arrived, breathless with
haste. He brought no note, but merely bade me hasten to the villa, as
the Count wished to see me with all possible despatch. I mounted the
servant's horse, and in a few minutes reached the place. Servants were
running hither and thither distractedly. I asked, eagerly, How was the
Countess? No one could tell, but all seemed to imply that there was
no hope of recovery. I entered the large spacious and hall, and threw
myself upon a sofa; and as I looked around upon the splendid hangings,
the gilded cornices, and marbled pillars, and thought upon that sorrow
such splendour surrounded, my heart sickened. A shadow fell upon the
brightly polished floor. I looked up--a figure stood at the window of
the hall, and stared me steadily in the face. The eyes glared wildly,
and the dark, malignant features were lit up with a scornful scowl of
more than human hate and triumph. It was the incarnation of the Evil
One exulting over a fallen and lost spirit. A loud shriek rent the air
behind me. I dared not turn my eyes from the horrid sight before me.
"Oh, Heavens! it is true!--he is, he is the Tutore!" I cried, as the
features, convulsed for an instant with fiendish triumph, resumed their
cold and even more appalling aspect. A threatening gesture from his hand
arrested me, as I was about to call aloud. My voice came not, though
my lips moved. I could not rise from the seat--a dreadful scream rang
through the building--another, and another followed--the figure was
gone. At the same moment the Count rushed forward--his dress disordered,
his hair falling loosely upon his shoulders--madness, wild insanity,
in his look. He turned and saw me; and bursting into a torrent of
hysterical laughter, cried out,--

"Ha, ha, Carl!--welcome to our abode of pleasure; here, all is gaiety
and happiness. What sorrow ever crosses this threshold?" and then, with
a sudden revulsion, he stared me fixedly, and said in a low sepulchral
voice, "She is dead--dead! But the time is passing--a few minutes more,
and 'twill be too late. This, Carl, will explain all. Take this, and
this--these papers must be your care--promise me to observe them to the
letter; they were her--her last wishes, and you knew her. Oh, is this
a dream? it is too, too horrible to be real. Ah!" said he, after a
moment's pause; "I am ready!" and springing from me wildly, rushed
through the door towards the inner apartments.

I started up and followed him--I knew not