but, after a time, it was not only the upbraidings of an accusing conscience, but the bitter reflection that he had utterly ruined his fortunes, that he had to contend with. When the shock arising from the death of Inez had somewhat subsided, he could see in his connexion with that lady, on mature consideration, many particulars calculated to soothe him, and to assuage that remorse which he had sustained originally. But as this feeling became less acute, the tender passion he entertained for Evaline, and which it had for a time overwhelmed, gradually revived, and tormented him with a flood of other reproaches. It never once occurred to him that he should conceal his connexion with Inez from Evaline. On the contrary, he felt a sort of melancholy pleasure, if the term may be used, in resolving to disclose it to her. But that it would utterly ruin his reputation with Evaline, and be fatal to their attachment, he felt assured. Life appeared like a dream to him as he thought so. His peace was gone; all his prospects of happiness were blasted; and, in his course onward, he would move through the world, and its busy and ever varying accidents, like a mere machine--without choice, enjoyment, or animation. It was morning before he arrived in the metropolis. He stayed at the inn at which he first arrived, in Aldgate, merely to take some slight refreshment, and recruit his toilet; and then repaired to the office of the Lord Admiral. That personage, to whom he readily acquired access, received him cordially, and heard his report of his recent expedition with the greatest satisfaction. After complimenting him on his gallantry, he directed him to remain in London, at the lodging he had engaged, for a few days more, when he would send him orders for further service. Hildebrand briefly assented, and then, with many thanks for his favourable opinion, took leave of the Admiral, and returned to his inn. Reflecting how he should proceed, he determined to communicate with Evaline, in reference to his acquaintance with Inez, through the medium of Bernard Gray. He accordingly wrote to the latter, informing him, at large, and without concealing one particular, of the adventure which had first connected him with the ill-fated Donna, and how she had become associated with him subsequently. But while he took the whole blame of her imprudence on himself, he failed not to set forth, fully and distinctly, that he was not aware that she followed him in disguise, and that it was only in her dying hour that he discovered she was not the person he had represented her to be. He desired Bernard personally to explain these particulars to Evaline, and, at the same time, to release her, in his name, from the engagement she had contracted with him, and urge her to seek one more deserving of her inestimable worth.