vague, and undefined, wearying and distracting my attention. I
was roused as by a divine voice, that said, "Sleep no more! Mervyn shall
sleep no more."

What chiefly occupied me was a nameless sort of terror. What shall I
compare it to? Methinks, that one falling from a tree overhanging a
torrent, plunged into the whirling eddy, and gasping and struggling
while he sinks to rise no more, would feel just as I did then. Nay, some
such image actually possessed me. Such was one of my reveries, in which
suddenly I stretched my hand, and caught the arm of a chair. This act
called me back to reason, or rather gave my soul opportunity to roam
into a new track equally wild.

Was it the abruptness of this vision that thus confounded me? was it a
latent error in my moral constitution, which this new conjuncture drew
forth into influence? These were all the tokens of a mind lost to
itself; bewildered; unhinged; plunged into a drear insanity.

Nothing less could have prompted so fantastically; for, midnight as it
was, my chamber's solitude was not to be supported. After a few turns
across the floor, I left the room, and the house. I walked without
design and in a hurried pace. I posted straight to the house of Mrs.
Fielding. I lifted the latch, but the door did not open. It was, no
doubt, locked.

"How comes this?" said I, and looked around me. The hour and occasion
were unthought of. Habituated to this path, I had taken it
spontaneously. "How comes this?" repeated I. "Locked upon _me_! but I
will summon them, I warrant me,"--and rung the bell, not timidly or
slightly, but with violence. Some one hastened from above. I saw the
glimmer of a candle through the keyhole.

"Strange," thought I; "a candle at noonday!"--The door was opened, and
my poor Bess, robed in a careless and hasty manner, appeared. She
started at sight of me, but merely because she did not, in a moment,
recognise me.--"Ah! Arthur, is it you? Come in. My mamma has wanted you
these two hours. I was just going to despatch Philip to tell you to
come."

"Lead me to her," said I.

She led the way into the parlour.--"Wait a moment here; I will tell her
you are come;"--and she tripped away.

Presently a step was heard. The door opened again, and then entered a
man. He was tall, elegant, sedate to a degree of sadness; something in
his dress and aspect that bespoke the foreigner, the Frenchman.

"What," said he, mildly, "is your business with my wife? She cannot se