to be tossing and drifting along like a cock-boat in the
surf; now swallowed up in a huge billow of cloud, and now lifted upon
its bosom and dashed with silvery spray. The trees by the roadside
groaned with a sound of evil omen, and before him lay three mortal
miles, beset with a thousand imaginary perils. Obedient to the whip
and spur, the steed leaped forward by fits and starts, now dashing away
in a tremendous gallop, and now relaxing into a long, hard trot; while
the rider, filled with symptoms of disease and dire presentiments of
death, urged him on, as if he were fleeing before the pestilence.

In this way, by dint of whistling and shouting, and beating right and
left, one mile of the fatal three was safely passed. The apprehensions
of the notary had so far subsided that he even suffered the poor horse
to walk up hill; but these apprehensions were suddenly revived again
with tenfold violence by a sharp pain in the right side, which seemed
to pierce him like a needle.

"It is upon me at last!" groaned the fear-stricken man. "Heaven be
merciful to me, the greatest of sinners! And must I die in a ditch,
after all? He! get up! get up!"

And away went horse and rider at full speed--hurry-scurry--up hill and
down--panting and blowing like a whirlwind. At every leap the pain in
the rider's side seemed to increase. At first it was a little point
like the prick of a needle--then it spread to the size of a half-franc
piece--then covered a place as large as the palm of your hand. It
gained upon him fast. The poor man groaned aloud in agony; faster and
faster sped the horse over the frozen ground--farther and farther
spread the pain over his side. To complete the dismal picture, the
storm commenced--snow mingled with rain. But snow and rain, and cold
were naught to him; for, though his arms and legs were frozen to
icicles, he felt it not; the fatal symptom was upon him; he was doomed
to die--not of cold, but of scarlet fever!

At length, he knew not how, more dead than alive, he reached the gate
of the city. A band of ill-bred dogs, that were serenading at a corner
of the street, seeing the notary dash by, joined in the hue and cry,
and ran barking and yelping at his heels. It was now late at night,
and only here and there a solitary lamp twinkled from an upper story.
But on went the notary, down this street and up that, till at last he
reached his own door. There was a light in his wife's bedchamber. The