inscrutable reason has a share in the ruling of
this planet--a devil who delights in mocking us from the cradle to the
grave. And perhaps we are never so hopelessly, utterly fooled as in our
marriages!

Occupied in various thoughts, I scarcely saw where I wandered, till a
flashing glimmer of blue blossoms recalled me to the object of my walk.
I had reached the Punto d'Angelo. It was, as Lilla had said, a flat
rock bare in every place save at the summit, where it was thickly
covered with the lovely gentians, flowers that are rare in this part of
Italy. Here then the fabled angel paused in his flight to bless the
venerable sanctuary of Monte Vergine. I stopped and looked around me.
The view was indeed superb--from the leafy bosom of the valley, the
green hills like smooth, undulating billows rolled upward, till their
emerald verdure was lost in the dense purple shadows and tall peaks of
the Apennines; the town of Avellino lay at my feet, small yet clearly
defined as a miniature painting on porcelain; and a little further
beyond and above me rose the gray tower of the Monte Vergine itself,
the one sad and solitary-looking object in all the luxuriant riante
landscape.

I sat down to rest, not as an intruder on the angel's
flower-embroidered throne, but on a grassy knoll close by. And then I
bethought me of a packet I had received from Naples that morning--a
packet that I desired yet hesitated to open. It had been sent by the
Marquis D'Avencourt, accompanied by a courteous letter, which informed
me that Ferrari's body had been privately buried with all the last
religious rites in the cemetery, "close to the funeral vault of the
Romani family," wrote D'Avencourt, "as, from all we can hear or
discover, such seems to have been his own desire. He was, it appears, a
sort of adopted brother of the lately deceased count, and on being
informed of this circumstance, we buried him in accordance with the
sentiments he would no doubt have expressed had he considered the
possible nearness of his own end at the time of the combat."

With regard to the packet inclosed, D'Avencourt continued--"The
accompanying letters were found in Ferrari's breast-pocket, and on
opening the first one, in the expectation of finding some clew as to
his last wishes, we came to the conclusion that you, as the future
husband of the lady whose signature and handwriting you will here
recognize, should be made aware of the contents, not only for your own
sake,