ught upon myself another, ten times
more mortifying than the first. By Tartarus, and all the infernal gods, I
believe I had better let it rest where it is! Wretch, wretch, that I am!"
And he threw himself on the bed in an agony of despair.

Damon had slept little the preceding night, and his slumbers had been
disturbed with a thousand horrible imaginations. The first person who
appeared in his chamber the next morning he addressed with "Where, where
is she? Where is my Delia? My life, my soul, the mistress of my fate? Ah,
why do you look so haggard, so unconsoling. You have heard nothing of her?
Give me my clothes. I will pursue her to the world's end. I will find her,
though she be hid deep as the centre." "Sir, be pacified," said the
servant, "she is safe." "Safe," cried our lover, "why then does she not
appear to comfort me? But haste, I will fly to her. I will clasp, I will
lock her, in my arms. No, nothing, not all the powers on earth, shall ever
part us more." "Sir, she is not in the house." "Not in the house," cried
Damon starting, "Ha! say. I will not be cheated. On thy life do not trifle
with my impatience."

At this moment Mr. Godfrey entered the room. "Who is there?" cried Damon,
starting at every whisper. "It is your friend," said Godfrey. "A friend
that owes you much, and would willingly pay you something back again." "I
do not understand you," replied our hero. "I can talk of nothing but my
Delia. Oh Delia! Delia! I will teach thy name to all the echoes. I will
send it with every wind to heaven. Ever, ever, shall it dwell upon my
lips." "Delia," replied the other, "is in safety. I have been so happy as
to rescue her." "Ha! sayest thou? let me look upon thee well. I am
somewhat disordered, but I think thy name is Godfrey. Thou shouldst not
deceive me. Thou art not old in falsehood." "I do not deceive thee. On my
life I do not!" exclaimed Godfrey, with emotion. "Compose thyself for a
few hours. Or ever thou shalt see the setting sun, I will put thy Delia
into thy arms again."

Damon was somewhat composed by these assurances. No voice like that of
Godfrey had power to sooth his mind to serenity. But though he sought to
restrain himself, he listened to every noise. He started at the sound of
every foot, and the rattle of a carriage in the street agitated his soul
almost to frenzy.

"Why does not she come? What can delay her? I have counted every moment.
I have waited whole ages. I see, I see, that every thi