directed our steps was a quarter of a mile from the villa, and, as I had said, by the time we had reached it the darkness of night had come on.

"This gloomy cell stood at the foot of a rock deep embowered in thick groves: a mountain stream fell from a considerable height near it, and the dash of its waters alone broke the silence of this secluded retreat, which was called the Hermitage, from the peculiar style in which it was fitted up. For some time before we reached it we made the surrounding thickets resound with Rosolia's name: but all was silent, save the murmuring breeze and the dashing of the waterfall. I concluded that my wife was gone off with the infamous De Sylva, and my whole frame shook with rage and agitation.

"Why do you tremble so, my Lord?' said the affrighted Edmund, who hung upon my arm: 'do you think any harm has happened to my sister?'

"I know not,' I replied, 'but I fear it, greatly fear it!'

"Just then we entered the gloomy Hermitage: all was dark and still; the echo of our steps alone broke the awful silence. The men who accompanied us lifted their torches to throw a fuller light into the cell; and—ah! my Ellen, I dread to shock your tender nature by describing the horrid scene which met our view.—Imagine our sensations when we saw the unfortunate Rosolia extended on the earth! her white garments dyed in blood! in that blood which some hand, either accidentally or by design, had shed! for on raising the body, by this time stiff and cold, a wound was discovered in the back of her head, which was evidently the effect of a pistol-ball, and had caused her death. You tremble and turn pale, my love: it grieves me to distress you, but think what was my distress, when Edmund, who, in frantic despair, had thrown himself by his murdered sister, found the fatal weapon which had done this deed of horror, and I saw at once it was the fellow pistol to that I had in my hand when he met me in the hall, remarkable for its peculiar construction and workmanship; the very one, in short, which I had given to De Sylva. Never, never shall I forget the glance of his dark eyes at that moment: I saw the direful suspicions he, at that instant, conceived, and which were still more fatally confirmed by what immediately followed.

"My poor Bayfield, full of grief and horror, was arranging, with all the care circumstances would admit, the removal of the body to the house, when seeing something glitter amidst the horrible darkness which surrounded us, and our fading torches scarcely broke, she stooped and picked up my ring, that well-known ring, which I indeed had lost, but had not said so; and which she, from some impulsive feeling, perhaps fearing the sight of it in that place might implicate me in the late sad event, attempted to conceal in her bosom.

"What is that?" exclaimed the half-frantic Edmund, darting towards her and seizing her hand. 'Your ring, my Lord, your ring! at this time—in this place. The pistol too—those dreadful threatenings of revenge.—Ah God! Ah God!—what horrible conviction flashes on me.—Rosolia! poor dear sister!—Ah, basely, basely murdered!' and he fell senseless on the ground.

"The domestics who attended us were Spaniards, and did not understand a word he said: but Bayfield stood the image of dismay.

"Ah, my Lord,' said she, 'fly, if indeed your hand by accident has done this deed, for think what will become of you amidst the bigotted Catholics, who will seek to revenge it.'

"Fly!' I repeated, 'my good old friend! Can you believe me guilty?'

"Oh no, my dear Lord,' she replied, never, never! but think what these unfortunate appearances will say against you to those who know you less than I do.'

"Whatever they say, I will brave,' I exclaimed: 'nor care I much after this dreadful moment what becomes of me; but never will I, by an ignominious flight, tacitly avow myself guilty, when I know and surely cannot fail to prove my innocence.'

"In a few minutes one of the men, who, on Edmund's falling into the deathlike trance from which we yet vainly sought to recover him, had fled towards the house for more assistance, returned with almost all the domestics, who eagerly crowded to satisfy their curiosity, and whose astonishment and impatient questions may be easily conceived. Between them they conveyed into the house their murdered mistress, and the still insensible Edmund, whose spirit we at one time imagined had really followed hers. To paint the confusion which ensued would be impossible: one express was instantly sent off to the Duke de Castel Nuovo, and several men I sent into the mountains and round the neighbourhood to seek for De Sylva, by whose hand I doubted not the fatal wound, either by accident or design, had been given. I described his person and appearance, saying that such a man had been seen lurking about the house the night before.

"Some of the servants having remarked the capricious character, and, of late, the melancholy manners of Rosolia, suggested an idea that she had destroyed herself; but the situation of the wound prevented such a possibility. Forgive me, my love, these shocking details: they are indeed unsuited to the tenderness of your nature; but without a very accurate account of this unfortunate event, it would be impossible for you to judge what evidences there were of my apparent guilt, or real innocence.

"Edmund slowly recovered from his deep swoon, but his reason for a time was flown, and all the skill of the medical people about us failed for weeks to recover it. Yet still he knew me—still with an expression of the most vindictive hatred his eyes pursued me. His words frequently pointed out the nature of his suspicions; but he raved so constantly, that they remained unnoticed, save by me and Bayfield: too fatally, alas! we understood them. To her I fully explained all that had passed, and she told me she had no hesitation in believing that De Sylva was the author of this direful tragedy. To find that villain appeared impossible: my servants returned, after a week's search in every direction, without having discovered the slightest trace of him. Indeed, to track a fugitive in that wild romantic country is extremely difficult: immense woods, deep caves, and the recesses of vast ruins, might easily shelter such a one from pursuit.

"To the servants I held out an idea that some banditti from the mountains had found their Lady in her lonely walk, as indeed they all knew I often had feared would be the case, and had murdered her for the sake of the money and jewels she had about her; and in truth many of them had seen her go out with some rich ornaments, which she generally wore, and which certainly were removed from the body.

"On searching the Hermitage the next morning, a parcel was found, containing a complete Spanish habit for a boy, and a letter—at least a part of one, for part was torn away, and the remainder contained only these words: