inely strung; but as she showed no
signs of recovering consciousness, nor gave the slightest indication of
rallying, it was decided at once that she should be conveyed to shore,
where in her own house medical aid might be had recourse to.

I was one of those who assisted to carry her to the boat, and sat beside
her afterwards, and held her hand in mine; but she never recognized
me; her hand, too, was cold and clammy, and the fingers felt rigid and
cramped. The stern, impressive look of her features, the cold stare
of her fixed eyes, were terrible to behold,--far more so than even the
workings of mere bodily sufferings.

During the passage to the shore, at the landing itself, and on our way
to the Palazzo, she remained in the same state; nor did she ever evince
any trait of consciousness till she reached the foot of the great
staircase, where a crowd of servants, in the richest liveries, awaited
to offer their services. Then suddenly she moved her head from side to
side, regarding the crowd with a glance of wild and terrific meaning;
she raised her hand to her brow, and passed it slowly across her
forehead. For an instant it seemed as if the lethargic paroxysm was
about to pass away, for her features softened into a look of calm but
melancholy beauty. This, too, glided away, and her mouth settled into a
hard and rigid smile. It was the last change of all, for she had become
an idiot!

From that hour forth she never spoke again! she never knew those about
her, neither missing them while absent, nor recognizing them when they
reappeared. She had none of the childish wilfulness of others in her
sad condition, nor did she show the likings and dislikings they usually
manifest; and thus she lingered on to her death.

Of her secret I was the sole depositary; and from that hour to this, in
which I write, it has never escaped my lips.

CHAPTER XXXIV. CONCLUSION

I had few inducements to prolong my stay at Naples. The society in which
I moved had received a shock so terrible that for some time, at least,
it could not hope to recover, and an air of gloom and despondency
prevailed, where so lately all had worn the livery of pleasure.

I made my farewell visit, therefore, at the court, and the various
embassies, and set out for Paris. This time, grown wiser by experience,
I did not seek to astonish the world by any gorgeous display of my
riches. I travelled with but two carriages, one of which contained my
luggage; the ot