e, or sigh, or even weep; and
all night, when she could not know of my presence, I used to lie down by
her bedside; and when I sank into a short and convulsed sleep, I saw her
once more, in my brief and fleeting dreams, in all the devoted love, and
glowing beauty, which had once constituted the whole of my happiness,
and my world.

"One day I had been called from my post by her door. They came to me
hastily--she was in strong convulsions. I flew up stairs, and supported
her in my arms till the fits had ceased: we then placed her in bed; she
never rose from it again; but on that bed of death, the words, as well
as the cause, of her former insanity, were explained--the mystery was
unravelled.

"It was a still and breathless night. The moon, which was at its
decrease, came through the half-closed shutters, and beneath its solemn
and eternal light, she yielded to my entreaties, and revealed all. The
man--my friend--Tyrrell--had polluted her ear with his addresses, and
when forbidden the house, had bribed the woman I had left with her,
to convey his letters--she was discharged--but Tyrrell was no ordinary
villain; he entered the house one evening, when no one but Gertrude was
there--Come near me, Pelham--nearer--bend down your ear--he used force,
violence! That night Gertrude's senses deserted her--you know the rest.

"The moment that I gathered, from Gertrude's broken sentences, their
meaning, that moment the demon entered into my soul. All human feelings
seemed to fly from my heart; it shrunk into one burning, and thirsty,
and fiery want--that was for revenge. I would have sprung from the
bedside, but Gertrude's hand clung to me, and detained me; the damp,
chill grasp, grew colder and colder--it ceased--the hand fell--I
turned--one slight, but awful shudder, went over that face, made yet
more wan, by the light of the waning and ghastly moon--one convulsion
shook the limbs--one murmur passed the falling and hueless lips. I
cannot tell you the rest--you know--you can guess it.

"That day week we buried her in the lonely churchyard--where she had, in
her lucid moments, wished to lie--by the side of her mother."

CHAPTER LXXV.

I BREATHED, But not the breath of human life; A serpent round my heart
was wreathed, And stung my very thought to strife.--The Giaour.

"Thank Heaven, the most painful part of my story is at an end. You will
now be able to account for our meeting in the church-yard at------. I
secured myse