felt. That he should be restless I understood; that he should wander as an unlaid ghost and find no quiet from the burning hell that consumed his heart. But why approach my chamber? Was not that sacred? I felt almost ready to faint while he had stood there, but I had not betrayed my wakefulness by the slightest motion, although I had heard my own heart beat with violent fear. He had withdrawn. Oh, never, never, may I see him again! Tomorrow night the same roof may not cover us; he or I must depart. The mutual link of our destinies is broken; we must be divided by seas — by land. The stars and the sun must not rise at the same period to us: he must not say, looking at the setting crescent of the moon, “Mathilda now watches its fall.” — No, all must be changed. Be it light with him when it is darkness with me! Let him feel the sun of