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troubled ecstasy the rest I so much needed。 At last I dozed； but not
for long； it was yet quite dark when I awoke； and my waking was
like that of Job when a spirit passed before his face； and like him；
“the hair of my flesh stood up。” I might continue the parallel； for in
truth； though I saw nothing； yet “a thing was secretly brought unto
me； and mine ear received a little thereof； there was silence； and I
heard a voice；” saying —“In the midst of life we are in death。”
That sound； and the sensation of chill anguish accompanying it；
many would have regarded as supernatural； but I recognized it at
once as the effect of reaction。 Man is ever clogged with his
mortality； and it was my mortal nature which now faltered and
plained； my nerves； which jarred and gave a false sound； because
the soul； of late rushing headlong to an aim； had overstrained the
body’s comparative weakness。 A horror of great darkness fell upon
me； I felt my chamber invaded by one I had known formerly； but
had thought for ever departed。 I was temporarily a prey to
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hypochondria。
She had been my acquaintance； nay； my guest； once before in
boyhood； I had entertained her at bed and board for a year； for
that space of time I had her to myself in secret； she lay with me；
she ate with me； she walked out with me； showing me nooks in
woods； hollows in hills； where we could sit together； and where
she could drop her drear veil over me； and so hide sky and sun；
grass and green tree； taking me entirely to her death…cold bosom；
and holding me with arms of bone。 What tales she would tell me at
such hours！ What songs she would recite in my ears！ How she
would discourse to me of her own country—the grave—and again
and again promise to conduct me there ere long； and； drawing me
to the very brink of a black； sullen river； show me； on the other
side； shores unequal with mound； monument； and tablet； standing
up in a glimmer more hoary than moonlight。 “Necropolis！” she
would whisper； pointing to the pale piles； and add； “It contains a
mansion prepared for you。”
But my boyhood was lonely； parentless； uncheered by brother
or sister； and there was no marvel that； just as I rose to youth； a
sorceress； finding me lost in vague mental wanderings； with many
affections and few objects； glowing aspirations and gloomy
prospects； strong desires and slender hopes； should lift up her
illusive lamp to me in the distance； and lure me to her vaulted
home of horrors。 No wonder her spells then had power； but now；
when my course was widening； my prospect brightening； when my
affections had found a rest； when my desires； folding wings； weary
with long flight； had just alighted on the very lap of fruition； and
nestled there warm； content； under the caress of a soft hand—why
did hypochondria accost me now？
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I repulsed her as one would a dreaded and ghastly concubine
coming to embitter a husband’s heart toward his young bride； in
vain； she kept her sway over me for that night and the next day；
and eight succeeding days。 Afterwards； my spirits began slowly to
recover their tone； my appetite returned； and in a fortnight I was
well。 I had gone about as usual all the time； and had said nothing
to anybody of what I felt； but I was glad when the evil spirit
departed from me； and I could again seek Frances； and sit at her
side； freed from the dreadful tyranny of my demon。
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Chapter XXIV
ne fine； frosty Sunday in November； Frances and I took a
long walk； we made the tour of the city by the Boulevards；
O
and； afterwards； Frances being a little tired； we sat down
on one of those wayside seats placed under the trees； at intervals；
for the accommodation of the weary。 Frances was telling me about
Switzerland； the subject animated her； and I was just thinking
that her eyes spoke full as eloquently as her tongue； when she
stopped and remarked—
“Monsieur； there is a gentleman who knows you。”
I looked up； three fashionably dressed men were just then
passing—Englishmen； I knew by their air and gait as well as by
their features； in the tallest of the trio I at once recognized Mr。
Hunsden； he was in the act of lifting his hat to Frances；
afterwards； he made a grimace at me； and passed on。
“Who is he？”
“A person I knew in England。”
“Why did he bow to me？ He does not know me。”
“Yes； he does know you； in his way。”
“How； monsieur？” （She still called me “monsieur”； I could not
persuade her to adopt any more familiar term。）
“Did you not read the expression of his eyes？”
“Of his eyes？ No。 What did they say？”
“To you they said； ‘How do you do； Wilhelmina Crimsworth？’
To me； ‘So you have found your counterpart at last； there she sits；
the female of your kind！’”
“Monsieur； you could not read all that in his eyes； He was so
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soon gone。”
“I read that and more； Frances； I read that he will probably call
on me this evening； or on some future occasion shortly； and I have
no doubt he will insist on being introduced to you； shall I bring
him to your rooms？”
“If you please； monsieur—I have no objection； I think； indeed； I
should rather like to see him nearer； he looks so original。”
As I had anticipated； Mr。 Hunsden came that evening。 The first
thing he said was：—
“You need not begin boasting； Monsieur le Professeur； I know
about your appointment to — College； and all that； Brown has told
me。” Then he intimated that he had returned from Germany but a
day or two since； afterwards； he abruptly demanded whether that
was Madame Pelet…Reuter with whom he had seen me on the
Boulevards。 I was going to utter a rather emphatic negative； but
on second thoughts I checked myself； and； seeming to assent；
asked what he thought of her？
“As to her； I’ll come to that directly； but first I’ve a word for you。
I see you are a scoundrel； you’ve no business to be promenading
about with another man’s wife。 I thought you had sounder sense
than to get mixed up in foreign hodge…podge of this sort。”
“But the lady？”
“She’s too good for you evidently； she is like you； but something
better than you—no beauty； though； yet when she rose （for I
looked back to see you both walk away） I thought her figure and
carriage good。 These foreigners understand grace。 What the devil
has she done with Pelet？ She has not been married to him three
months—he must be a spoon！”
I would not let the mistake go too far； I did not like it much。
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“Pelet？ How your head runs on Mons。 and Madame Pelet！ You
are always talking about them。 I wish to the gods you had wed
Mdlle Zoraide yourself！”
“Was that young gentlewoman not Mdlle Zoraide？”
“No； nor Madame Zoraide either。”
“Why did you tell a lie； then？”
“I told no lie； but you are is such a hurry。 She is a pupil of
mine—a Swiss girl。”
“And of course you are going to be married to her？ Don’t deny
that。”
“Married！ I think I shall—if Fate spares us both ten weeks
longer。 That is my little wild strawberry； Hunsden； whose
sweetness made me carel