thing seemed
to announce as impending. But Julian Peveril, his youth considered, was
strict in judging his duty, and severely resolved in executing it. He
trusted not his imagination to pursue the vision which presented itself;
but resolutely seizing his pen, wrote to Alice the following letter,
explaining his situation, as far as justice to the Countess permitted
him to do so:--

"I leave you, dearest Alice," thus ran the letter.--"I leave you;
and though, in doing so, I but obey the command you have laid on
me, yet I can claim little merit for my compliance, since, without
additional and most forcible reasons in aid of your orders, I fear
I should have been unable to comply with them. But family affairs
of importance compel me to absent myself from this island, for, I
fear, more than one week. My thoughts, hopes, and wishes will be
on the moment that shall restore me to the Black Fort, and its
lovely valley. Let me hope that yours will sometimes rest on the
lonely exile, whom nothing could render such, but the command of
honour and duty. Do not fear that I mean to involve you in a
private correspondence, and let not your father fear it. I could
not love you so much, but for the openness and candour of your
nature; and I would not that you concealed from Major Bridgenorth
one syllable of what I now avow. Respecting other matters, he
himself cannot desire the welfare of our common country with more
zeal than I do. Differences may occur concerning the mode in which
that is to be obtained; but, in the principle, I am convinced
there can be only one mind between us; nor can I refuse to listen
to his experience and wisdom, even where they may ultimately fail
to convince me. Farewell--Alice, farewell! Much might be added to
that melancholy word, but nothing that could express the
bitterness with which it is written. Yet I could transcribe it
again and again, rather than conclude the last communication which
I can have with you for some time. My sole comfort is, that my
stay will scarce be so long as to permit you to forget one who
never can forget you."

He held the paper in his hand for a minute after he had folded, but
before he had sealed it, while he hurriedly debated in his own mind
whether he had not expressed himself towards Major Bridgenorth in so
conciliating a manner as might excite hopes of proselytism, which his
conscience told him he could not realise w