even from my wife; and this, too, I resolved to state in my letter. I

had no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I was

conscious that there might be danger for others, if others were

compromised by possessing the knowledge that I possessed.

“I was much engaged that day, and could not complete my

letter that night. I rose long before my usual time next morning to

finish it. It was the last day of the year. The letter was lying before

me just completed, when I was told that a lady waited, who wished

to see me.

“I am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set

myself. It is so cold, so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the

gloom upon me is so dreadful.

“The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked

for long life. She was in great agitation. She presented herself to

me as the wife of the Marquis St. Evremonde. I connected the title

by which the boy had addressed the elder brother, with the initial

letter embroidered on the scarf, and had no difficulty in arriving at

the conclusion that I had seen that nobleman very lately.

“My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of

our conversation. I suspect that I am watched more closely than I

was, and I know not at what times I may be watched. She had in

part suspected, and in part discovered, the main facts of the cruel

story, of her