ral hours through the
night. To one of these meetings Don Ferdinand Morales had received a
summons as usual. As the day neared, he became conscious of a strange,
indefinable sensation taking possession of heart and mind, as
impossible to be explained as to be dismissed. It was as if some
impassable and invisible, but closely-hovering evil were connected
with the day, blinding him--as by a heavy pall--to all beyond. He
succeeded in subduing the ascendency of the sensation, in some
measure, till the day itself; when, as the hours waned, it became more
and more overpowering. As he entered his wife's apartment, to bid her
farewell ere he departed for the castle, it rose almost to suffocation
in his throat, and he put his arm round her as she stood by the
widely-opened casement, and remained by her side several minutes
without speaking.

"Thou art not going to the castle yet, dearest?" she inquired. "Is it
not much earlier than usual?"

"Yes, love; but I shall not ride to-night. I feel so strangely
oppressed, that I think a quiet walk in the night air will recover me
far more effectually than riding."

Marie looked up anxiously in his face. He was very pale, and his hair
was damp with the moisture on his forehead. "Thou art unwell," she
exclaimed; "do not go to-night, dearest Ferdinand,--stay with me. Thy
presence is not so imperatively needed."

He shook his head with a faint smile. "I must go, love, for I have no
excuse to stay away. I wish it were any other night, indeed, for I
would so gladly remain with thee; but the very wish is folly. I never
shrunk from the call of duty before, and cannot imagine what has come
over me to-night; but I would sacrifice much for permission to stay
within. Do not look so alarmed, love, the fresh air will remove this
vague oppression, and give me back myself."

"Fresh air there is none," replied his young wife, "the stillness is
actually awful--not a leaf moves, nor a breeze stirs. It seems too,
more than twilight darkness; as if a heavy storm were brooding."

"It may be; oppression in the air is often the sole cause of
oppression in the mind. I should be almost glad if it came, to explain
this sensation."

"But if thou must go, thou wilt not loiter, Ferdinand."

"Why--fearest thou the storm will harm me, love? Nay, I have
frightened thee into foreboding. Banish it, or I shall be still more
loth to say farewell!"

He kissed her, as if to depart, but still he lingered though nei