ideration for Emily, determined him at length to let the matter
rest, and to leave the murderer, if such he really were, to the
retribution which his own conscience and the justice of God would award
him. He would seek his friend's grave, and then he would separate from
D'Effernay, and never see him more. In the midst of these reflections
the servant came to tell him, that the carriage was ready. A shudder
passed over his frame as D'Effernay greeted him; but he commanded
himself, and they started on their expedition.

Edward spoke but little, and that only when it was necessary, and the
conversation was kept up by his two companions; he had made every
inquiry, before he set out, respecting the place of his friend's
interment, the exact situation of the tomb, the name of the village, and
its distance from the main road. On their way home, he requested that
D'Effernay would give orders to the coachman to make a round of a mile
or two, as far as the village of ----, with whose rector he was
particularly desirous to speak. A momentary cloud gathered on
D'Effernay's brow, yet it seemed no more than his usual expression of
vexation at any delay or hinderance; and he was so anxious to propitiate
his rich visitor, who appeared likely to take the estate off his hands,
that he complied with all possible courtesy. The coachman was directed
to turn down a by-road, and a very bad one it was. The captain stood up
in the carriage and pointed out the village to him, at some distance
off; it lay in a deep ravine at the foot of the mountains.

They arrived in the course of time, and inquired for the clergyman's
house, which, as well as the church, was situated on rising ground. The
three companions alighted from the carriage, which they left at the
bottom of the hill, and walked up together in the direction of the
rectory. Edward knocked at the door and was admitted, while the two
others sat on a bench outside. He had promised to return speedily, but
to D'Effernay's restless spirit, one quarter of an hour appeared
interminable.

He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, "M. de
Wensleben must have a great deal of business with the rector: we have
been here an immense time, and he does not seem inclined to make his
appearance."

"Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter can not detain him long."

"What on earth can he have to do here?"

"Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy--the enthusiasm of youth."

"It ha