ch animate my heart assure me that the lines I have
just written express a Profound Truth.

Those sentiments exalt me above all merely personal considerations. I
bear witness, in the most disinterested manner, to the excellence of
the stratagem by which this unparalleled woman surprised the private
interview between Percival and myself--also to the marvellous accuracy
of her report of the whole conversation from its beginning to its end.

Those sentiments have induced me to offer to the unimpressionable
doctor who attends on her my vast knowledge of chemistry, and my
luminous experience of the more subtle resources which medical and
magnetic science have placed at the disposal of mankind. He has
hitherto declined to avail himself of my assistance. Miserable man!

Finally, those sentiments dictate the lines--grateful, sympathetic,
paternal lines--which appear in this place. I close the book. My
strict sense of propriety restores it (by the hands of my wife) to its
place on the writer's table. Events are hurrying me away.
Circumstances are guiding me to serious issues. Vast perspectives of
success unroll themselves before my eyes. I accomplish my destiny with
a calmness which is terrible to myself. Nothing but the homage of my
admiration is my own. I deposit it with respectful tenderness at the
feet of Miss Halcombe.

I breathe my wishes for her recovery.

I condole with her on the inevitable failure of every plan that she has
formed for her sister's benefit. At the same time, I entreat her to
believe that the information which I have derived from her Diary will
in no respect help me to contribute to that failure. It simply
confirms the plan of conduct which I had previously arranged. I have
to thank these pages for awakening the finest sensibilities in my
nature--nothing more.

To a person of similar sensibility this simple assertion will explain
and excuse everything.

Miss Halcombe is a person of similar sensibility.

In that persuasion I sign myself,
Fosco.

THE STORY CONTINUED BY FREDERICK FAIRLIE, ESQ., OF LIMMERIDGE HOUSE[2]

[2] The manner in which Mr. Fairlie's Narrative and other Narratives
that are shortly to follow it, were originally obtained, forms the
subject of an explanation which will appear at a later period.

It is the grand misfortune of my life that nobody will let me alone.

Why--I ask everybody--why worry ME? Nobody answers that q