am in no pain.'

''Let us hope, then, for the best. I will send for another doctor.'

''No, that would be useless. My lower extremities are swelling, and I
can feel the hand of death clutching at my vitals. The doctor was
right; death is not racking me with torture, it is gently embracing me.
But I want your assistance; sit down.'

'I resumed my seat, and Arthur continued, in a feeble tone, but
perfectly calm:

''How mean a thing is life! Good God! so mean, that at this moment I can
not explain to my own soul why man should cling to it. What do we meet
during our short career? Deceit, hypocrisy, and treachery. Ah! death
reveals the hollowness of life.'

''My dear friend, you are exhausting yourself. Did you not say you wanted
my assistance? Rely on my zeal, my fidelity, and my discretion.'

''Rely on you! How can I tell? You are only a man; perhaps avaricious and
treacherous as your fellow-mortals. No matter; though you should
forswear yourself; I, at least, will do what is right. Feel beneath my
pillow, there is a key; take it, open my desk. In the small drawer on
the left is a package of letters. Have you them? Good. Next to that
there is a sealed letter. Now, read aloud the direction on each.'

''Papers to be burnt after my death,' said I, obeying his injunction.

''Well, what do you intend doing with them?'

''Can you for one moment doubt?' I replied.

'What if I should tell you they contain the entire secret of my
opal-mine!'

'I made no reply; but struck a match against the wall, and setting them
on fire, resumed my seat.

''I could hardly have believed it; but you still have Pepito; from him
you hope to learn the secret,' said the dying man.

''Shall I bind myself by an oath not to seek him?'

''No; I leave you at liberty. Act as you think best. I burned those
papers because they were bought with blood, for no other reason.'

''Bought with blood?' I exclaimed.

''Yes; ten months ago, General Ramiro died at New-Orleans, by
poison--poison administered by Adele. Do you wonder life has lost all
charm for me? Oh! life is the bitterness, not death.'

'His voice momently grew fainter. I leaned closer, to catch his fading
tones, till he ceased to speak. I gazed intently at his glassy eyes; the
lids closed for a moment, then partially opened, the jaw fell, and he
was no more.'

'I know not how long I had stood beside his lifeless body, pondering
over the uncertainty of life, and the mystery of death