h presentiments which he is
inclined to accept as so many well-reasoned grounds of action. If he is
often deceived, he becomes aware of his mistake, and, going to the other
extreme, considers a presentiment as a sort of warning that the contrary
of what he expects will take place; if he chances to be often right he
grows superstitious.

The lonely man who was pacing the icy pavement of the deserted street on
that bitter winter's day felt the difficulty very keenly. He would not
yield and he could not advance. His heart was filled with forebodings
which his wisdom bade him treat with indifference, while his passion
gave them new weight and new horror with every minute that passed.

He had seen with his eyes and heard with his ears. Beatrice had been
before him, and her voice had reached him among the voices of thousands,
but now, since the hours has passed and he had not found her, it was as
though he had been near her in a dream, and the strong certainty took
hold of him that she was dead and that he had looked upon her wraith in
the shadowy church.

He was a strong man, not accustomed to distrust his senses, and his
reason opposed itself instantly to the suggestion of the supernatural.
He had many times, on entering a new city, felt himself suddenly elated
by the irresistible belief that his search was at an end, and that
within a few hours he must inevitably find her whom he had sought so
long. Often as he passed through the gates of some vast burying-place,
he had almost hesitated to walk through the silent ways, feeling all at
once convinced that upon the very first headstone he was about to
see the name that was ever in his heart. But the expectation of
final defeat, like the anticipation of final success, had been always
deceived. Neither living nor dead had he found her.

Two common, reasonable possibilities lay before him, and two only. He
had either seen Beatrice, or he had not. If she had really been in the
Teyn Kirche, she was in the city and not far from him. If she had not
been there, he had been deceived by an accidental but extraordinary
likeness. Within the logical concatenation of cause and effect there was
no room for any other supposition, and it followed that his course was
perfectly clear. He must continue his search until he should find the
person he had seen, and the result would be conclusive, for he would
again see the same face and hear the same voice. Reason told him that he
had in all lik