ee's come." So saying, he hastily left the room.

CHAPTER XXX.

In a short time this gentle girl recovered her senses. She did not
withdraw herself from my sustaining arm, but, leaning on my bosom, she
resigned herself to passionate weeping. I did not endeavour to check
this effusion, believing that its influence would be salutary.

I had not forgotten the thrilling sensibility and artless graces of this
girl. I had not forgotten the scruples which had formerly made me check
a passion whose tendency was easily discovered. These new proofs of her
affection were, at once, mournful and delightful. The untimely fate of
her father and my friend pressed with new force upon my heart, and my
tears, in spite of my fortitude, mingled with hers.

The attention of both was presently attracted by a faint scream, which
proceeded from above. Immediately tottering footsteps were heard in the
passage, and a figure rushed into the room, pale, emaciated, haggard,
and wild. She cast a piercing glance at me, uttered a feeble
exclamation, and sunk upon the floor without signs of life.

It was not difficult to comprehend this scene. I now conjectured, what
subsequent inquiry confirmed, that the old man had mistaken me for
Wallace, and had carried to the elder sister the news of his return.
This fatal disappointment of hopes that had nearly been extinct, and
which were now so powerfully revived, could not be endured by a frame
verging to dissolution.

This object recalled all the energies of Eliza, and engrossed all my
solicitude. I lifted the fallen girl in my arms; and, guided by her
sister, carried her to her chamber. I had now leisure to contemplate the
changes which a few months had made in this lovely frame. I turned away
from the spectacle with anguish, but my wandering eyes were recalled by
some potent fascination, and fixed in horror upon a form which evinced
the last stage of decay. Eliza knelt on one side, and, leaning her face
upon the bed, endeavoured in vain to smother her sobs. I sat on the
other motionless, and holding the passive and withered hand of the
sufferer.

I watched with ineffable solicitude the return of life. It returned at
length, but merely to betray symptoms that it would speedily depart
forever. For a time my faculties were palsied, and I was made an
impotent spectator of the ruin that environed me. This pusillanimity
quickly gave way to resolutions and reflections better suited to the
exigencies