as freely as if
you had never wronged me--as freely as I desire my own
pardon.--Farewell--Farewell!"

She retired from the room, ere the clergyman could convince himself
that it was more than a phantom which he beheld. He ran down stairs--he
summoned assistants, but no one could attend his call; for the deep
ruckling groans of the patient satisfied every one that she was
breathing her last; and Mrs. Dods, with the maid-servant, ran into the
bedroom, to witness the death of Hannah Irwin, which shortly after took
place.

That event had scarcely occurred, when the maid-servant who had been
left in the inn, came down in great terror to acquaint her mistress,
that a lady had entered the house like a ghost, and was dying in Mr.
Tyrrel's room. The truth of the story we must tell our own way.

In the irregular state of Miss Mowbray's mind, a less violent impulse
than that which she had received from her brother's arbitrary violence,
added to the fatigues, dangers, and terrors of her night-walk, might
have exhausted the powers of her body, and alienated those of her mind.
We have before said, that the lights in the clergyman's house had
probably attracted her attention, and in the temporary confusion of a
family, never remarkable for its regularity, she easily mounted the
stairs, and entered the sick chamber undiscovered, and thus overheard
Hannah Irwin's confession, a tale sufficient to have greatly aggravated
her mental malady.

[Illustration]

We have no means of knowing whether she actually sought Tyrrel, or
whether it was, as in the former case, the circumstance of a light still
burning where all around was dark, that attracted her; but her next
apparition was close by the side of her unfortunate lover, then deeply
engaged in writing, when something suddenly gleamed on a large,
old-fashioned mirror, which hung on the wall opposite. He looked up, and
saw the figure of Clara, holding a light (which she had taken from the
passage) in her extended hand. He stood for an instant with his eyes
fixed on this fearful shadow, ere he dared turn round on the substance
which was thus reflected. When he did so, the fixed and pallid
countenance almost impressed him with the belief that he saw a vision,
and he shuddered when, stooping beside him, she took his hand. "Come
away!" she said, in a hurried voice--"Come away, my brother follows to
kill us both. Come, Tyrrel, let us fly--we shall easily escape
him.--Hannah Irwin is on befo