indows closed, the light burned, and I was left alone!

"Heaven, have mercy! My brain!--my brain!--Philip!--Philip!" shrieked
the poor woman; "don't leave me--don't--don't--pray don't!"

During these exclamations the frantic widow had raised herself from
the bed, and, at the last, had fallen into the arms of her son. She
remained there some minutes without motion. After a time Philip felt
alarmed at her long quiescence; he laid her gently down upon the bed,
and as he did so her head fell back--her eyes were turned--the widow
Vanderdecken was no more.

Chapter II

Philip Vanderdecken, strong as he was in mental courage, was almost
paralysed by the shock when he discovered that his mother's spirit had
fled; and for some time he remained by the side of the bed with his
eyes fixed upon the corpse, and his mind in a state of vacuity.
Gradually he recovered himself; he rose, smoothed down the pillow,
closed her eyelids, and then clasping his hands, the tears trickled
down his manly cheeks. He impressed a solemn kiss upon the pale white
forehead of the departed, and drew the curtains round the bed.

"Poor mother!" said he, sorrowfully, as he completed his task, "at
length thou hast found rest,--but thou hast left thy son a bitter
legacy."

And as Philip's thoughts reverted to what had passed, the dreadful
narrative whirled in his imagination and scathed his brain. He raised
his hands to his temples, compressed them with force, and tried to
collect his thoughts, that he might decide upon what measures he
should take. He felt that he had no time to indulge his grief. His
mother was in peace: but his father--where was he?

He recalled his mother's words--"One hope alone remained." Then there
was hope. His father had laid a paper on the table--could it be there
now? Yes, it must be; his mother had not had the courage to take it
up. There was hope in that paper, and it had lain unopened for more
than seventeen years.

Philip Vanderdecken resolved that he would examine the fatal
chamber--at once he would know the worst. Should he do it now, or wait
till daylight?--but the key, where was it? His eyes rested upon an old
japanned cabinet in the room: he had never seen his mother open it in
his presence: it was the only likely place of concealment that he was
aware of. Prompt in all his decisions, he took up the candle, and
proceeded to examine it. It was not locked; the doors swung open, and
drawer after drawer was ex