"Rickman, I am about to relate to you my
dismal story. Swear by your God that you
will never disclose it in my lifetime!"

I said I never would; but he, hardly waiting
for my reply, added: "It will be but a brief
time of reticence."

I could only interpret these words in a
sinister way, and, much moved, I conjured him
to throw himself on the Almighty with all his
sorrow, and to abstain from any act of rashness.
" I know, sir," I said, " I am not fit to advise
one of your age and learning; but I have already
lived to see strangely unexpected deliverances
from misery and misfortune."

He did not seem to hear me, but, leaning
gloomily on the rail, he thus began:

"I was forty years old when I married her.
A severe disappointment which I experienced in
early life had changed me much. To most
persons I seemed cold-hearted and repulsive;
but I thought she knew me better. Her
father was a clergyman of small means, and
she had four brothers, all in the army. By accident
I met her. Our courtship was very short.
Her father was happy to see his last child
provided for, and our wedding was celebrated with
great pomp. Two of her brothers were there;
the other two were serving in India. I took
her to our secluded Irish house in the county
Clare, and, for a year and more, I lived a life of
happiness such as falls to the lot of few.

"She was of wonderful beauty. Tall, of
exquisitely moulded shape, with flashing eyes of
brilliant blackness. She was much given to
melancholy, which greatly increased after the first
year of our union. I then began to fancy that
the memory of some old affection haunted her;
but she often told me that I was the only
man she had ever loved, and that my well-known
learning and accomplishments (those were her
words) had long caused her to entertain for me
the greatest respect, even before she had seen
me.

"Several times I came upon her unexpectedly,
and found her in tears, with an open letter
in her hand. On my entreating her to let me
know the cause of her unhappiness, she pleaded
nervousness, the thought or her father's delicate
health, and other family matters, which,
she assured me, I could not enter into. I
troubled myself much about this. I thought
that my manner towards her was not demonstrative
enough, and indeed no manner could show
the boundless depth of my love for her; then I
thought that the disparity of our years
precluded a perfect interchange of feeling and
sentiment. But any suspicion of her guilt, any
thought that she was not stainless——"

Mr. Aspern stopped abruptly, wiped the
perspiration from his brow, and proceeded:

"Oh! Why did I not die then! I should
have carried in my soul to the realms of
Hereafter a glorious dream. But now——

"We had been married fifteen months, when
most unexpected news came to me from India.
A distant relative had died there, leaving me a
large fortune, and my presence was required in
Bengal to arrange important affairs. Finding
that your ship was soon about to sail, I resolved
to take passage in her, and I settled all things
needful for my wife's comfort during my absence,
which was to be for a twelvemonth. Her
despondency deepened, and I strove to flatter
myself that my approaching departure was the
cause.

"I had had a lovely garden laid out for her.
A side-walk led down to a tasteful bridge of
ornamented wood, which spanned a pretty
stream: an insignificant stream in dry weather,
but a dangerous torrent after rain. In time of
flood, the water rushed down with great velocity,
and, to prevent the ' bursting' of the bridge,
several of the flooring-boards were not nailed
down. This bridge led into a park, just beyond
which were the stables, and the stables
commanded a view of our garden. Although there
was thus a short cut to the stables from the
house, none of the servants were allowed to
avail themselves of it; our usual evening stroll
was the garden and the park, and those were
strictly private.

"For some days the rain had been falling
heavily, and our walks were stopped. I was
much occupied, however, by business in the
neighbouring town, and did not return as early
as usual for several days in succession.

"I returned one dark rainy evening just
before sunset. Much rain had fallen, and, as I
crossed the bridge on foot, I noticed the stream
flowing turbid and whirling beneath. This was
not my usual way of going home, but, in
consequence of the rain, I rode straight to the stables,
gave my horse to the groom, and took the short
cut. There was a shady summer-house in the
upper corner of the garden, and I observed, to
my surprise, a man's footprints along the path
leading thither from the bridge. The prints
were those of a fashionably-made boot; and my
surprise was increased by coming to a spot in
which they seemed to have been met by
another person's prints, and thence both led to the
summer-house. Whose foot but hers could have
made those tiny impressions? I reached the
summer-house, and there I found my wife.

"' Good Heavens! Caroline,' I exclaimed;
' you out on such an evening—you so delicate?'
She was shivering with cold. ' Who was here?'
I said.

"She shivered still more, and replied timidly,
'No stranger has been here, Reginald.'

"' What?' said I; 'no one up the walk from
the bridge?'

"She looked frightened, again shuddered, and,
gazing with her large eyes in my face, she
repeated, 'No stranger has been here.'

"I looked at her earnestly; her eyes drooped;
she was ghastly pale.

"'Well, my dearest,' I said, ' let me muffle
you well; you are very imprudent in so
exposing yourself to the damp air.'

"I wrapped her large shawl around her;
from one of its folds there fell on the ground a
glove. It dropped from behind, and she did not
see it. I picked it up and concealed it. It was