logue; but this was to be so conducted that another, and not
yourself, should appear to be the object. I was not aware of the
possibility that you should appropriate these menaces to yourself. Had
you been still and listened, you would have heard the struggles and
prayers of the victim, who would likewise have appeared to be shut up in
the closet, and whose voice would have been Judith's. This scene would
have been an appeal to your compassion; and the proof of cowardice
or courage which I expected from you, would have been your remaining
inactive in your bed, or your entering the closet with a view to assist
the sufferer. Some instances which Judith related of your fearlessness
and promptitude made me adopt the latter supposition with some degree of
confidence.

"By the girl's direction I found a ladder, and mounted to your closet
window. This is scarcely large enough to admit the head, but it answered
my purpose too well.

"I cannot express my confusion and surprize at your abrupt and
precipitate flight. I hastily removed the ladder; and, after some pause,
curiosity and doubts of your safety induced me to follow you. I found
you stretched on the turf before your brother's door, without sense or
motion. I felt the deepest regret at this unlooked-for consequence of
my scheme. I knew not what to do to procure you relief. The idea of
awakening the family naturally presented itself. This emergency was
critical, and there was no time to deliberate. It was a sudden thought
that occurred. I put my lips to the key-hole, and sounded an alarm which
effectually roused the sleepers. My organs were naturally forcible, and
had been improved by long and assiduous exercise.

"Long and bitterly did I repent of my scheme. I was somewhat consoled by
reflecting that my purpose had not been evil, and renewed my fruitless
vows never to attempt such dangerous experiments. For some time I
adhered, with laudable forbearance, to this resolution.

"My life has been a life of hardship and exposure. In the summer I
prefer to make my bed of the smooth turf, or, at most, the shelter of a
summer-house suffices. In all my rambles I never found a spot in which
so many picturesque beauties and rural delights were assembled as at
Mettingen. No corner of your little domain unites fragrance and secrecy
in so perfect a degree as the recess in the bank. The odour of its
leaves, the coolness of its shade, and the music of its water-fall,
had early attract