vening
presented by his servant with a package from London, which he no sooner
opened, than he found enclosed a letter directed to him, in the
handwriting of Monimia. He was so much affected at sight of those
well-known characters, that he stood motionless as a statue, eager to
know the contents, yet afraid to peruse the billet. While he hesitated
in this suspense, he chanced to cast his eye on the inside of the cover,
and perceived the name of his Jewish friend at the bottom of a few lines,
importing, that the enclosed was delivered to him by a physician of his
acquaintance, who had recommended it in a particular manner to his care.
This intimation served only to increase the mystery, and whet his
impatience; and as he had the explanation in his hand, he summoned all
his resolution to his aid, and, breaking the seal, began to read these
words: "Renaldo will not suppose that this address proceeds from
interested motives, when he learns, that, before it can be presented to
his view, the unfortunate Monimia will be no more."

Here the light forsook Renaldo's eyes, his knees knocked together, and he
fell at full length insensible on the floor. His valet, hearing the
noise, ran into the apartment, lifted him upon a couch, and despatched a
messenger for proper assistance, while he himself endeavoured to recall
his spirits by such applications as chance afforded. But before the
Count exhibited any signs of life, his brother-in-law entered his chamber
by accident, and as soon as he recollected himself from the extreme
confusion and concern produced by this melancholy spectacle, he perceived
the fatal epistle, which Melvil, though insensible, still kept within his
grasp; justly suspecting this to be the cause of that severe paroxysm, he
drew near the couch, and with difficulty read what is above rehearsed,
and the sequel, to this effect:--

"Yes, I have taken such measures as will prevent it from falling into
your hands, until after I shall have been released from a being
embittered with inexpressible misery and anguish. It is not my
intention, once loved, and ah! still too fondly remembered youth, to
upbraid you as the source of that unceasing woe which hath been so long
the sole inhabitant of my lonely bosom. I will not call you inconstant
or unkind. I dare not think you base or dishonourable; yet I was
abruptly sacrificed to a triumphant rival, before I had learned to bear
such mortification; before I had overcome th