he course they both pursue they must meet at
last; and when they meet, the mechanism of the whole halts--the work of
the dial is for ever done. These hands indicate hourly the progress made
to that end; for it is the mimicry and symbol of mine. Thus do I number
the days of my fate; thus do I know, even almost to a second, the period
in which I shall join my Father that is in Heaven!

"And now," continued the maniac (though maniac is too harsh and decided
a word for the dreaming wildness of Lucilla's insanity), as, dropping
the curtain, she took her guest's hand and conducted her back into the
outer room--"and now, farewell! You sought me, and, I feel, only from
kind and generous motives. We never shall meet more. Tell not your
husband that you have seen me. He will know soon, too soon, of my
existence: fain would I spare him that pang and," growing pale as she
spoke, "that peril; but Fate forbids it. What is writ, is writ: and who
shall blot God's sentence from the stars, which are His book? Farewell!
high thoughts are graved upon your brow may they bless you; or, where
they fail to bless, may they console and support. Farewell! I have not
yet forgotten to be grateful, and I still dare to pray."

Thus saying, Lucilla kissed the hand she had held, and turning hastily
away, regained the room she had just left; and, locking the door, left
the stunned and bewildered countess to depart from the melancholy abode.
With faltering steps she quitted the chamber, and at the foot of the
stairs the little Moor awaited her. To her excited fancy there was
something eltrich and preternatural in the gaze of the young African,
and the grin of her pearly teeth, as she opened the door to the
visitant. Hastening to her carriage, which she had left at a corner
of the square, the countess rejoiced when she gained it; and throwing
herself back on the luxurious cushions, felt as exhausted by this starry
and weird incident in the epic of life's common career, as if she
had partaken of that overpowering inspiration which she now almost
incredulously asked herself, as she looked forth on the broad day and
the busy streets, if she had really witnessed.

CHAPTER LXIV.

LUCILLA'S FLIGHT.--THE PERPLEXITY OF LADY ERPINGHAM.--A CHANGE COMES
OVER GODOLPHIN'S MIND.--HIS CONVERSATION WITH RADCLYFFE.--GENERAL
ELECTION.--GODOLPHIN BECOMES A SENATOR.

No human heart ever beat with more pure and generous emotions, when
freed from the political fever