Some months thus passed away, with little variation in my situation. Returning home one morning, early, from the nurse's, where I had left my Emma with Augustus (whom I never, now, permitted to be brought to my own house) as I entered, Mr Montague shot suddenly by me, and rushed up stairs towards his apartment. I saw him but transiently, as he passed; but his haggard countenance, and furious gestures, filled me with dismay. He had been from home the preceding night; but to these absences I had lately been too much accustomed to regard them as any thing extraordinary. I hesitated a few moments, whether I should follow him. I feared, lest I might exasperate him by so doing; yet, the unusual disorder of his appearance gave me a thousand terrible and nameless apprehensions. I crept toward the door of his apartment--listened attentively, and heard him walking up and down the room, with hasty steps--sometimes he appeared to stop, and groaned heavily:--once I heard him throw up the sash, and shut it again with violence. I attempted to open the door, but, finding it locked, my terror increased.--I knocked gently, but could not attract his attention. At length I recollected another door, that led to this apartment, through my own chamber, which was fastened on the outside, and seldom opened. With trembling steps I hurried round, and, on entering the room, beheld him sitting at a table, a pen in his hand, and paper before him. On the table lay his pistols--his hair was dishevelled--his dress disordered--his features distorted with emotion--while in his countenance was painted the extreme of horror and despair. I uttered a faint shriek, and sunk into a chair. He started from his seat, and, advancing towards me with hurried and tremulous steps, sternly demanded, Why I intruded on his retirement? I threw myself at his feet,--I folded my arms round him--I wept--I deprecated his anger--I entreated to be heard--I said all that humanity, all that the most tender and lively sympathy could suggest, to inspire him with confidence--to induce him to relieve, by communication, the burthen which oppressed his heart.--He struggled to free himself from me--my apprehensions gave me strength--I held him with a strenuous grasp--he raved--he stamped--he tore his hair--his passion became frenzy! At length, forcibly bursting from him, I fell on the floor, and the blood gushed from my nose and lips. He shuddered convulsively--stood a few moments, as if irresolute--and, then, throwing himself beside me, raised me from the ground; and, clasping me to his heart, which throbbed tumultuously, burst into a flood of tears. 'I will not be thy _murderer_, Emma!' said he, in a voice of agony, interrupted by heart-rending sobs--'I have had enough of blood!' I tried to sooth him--I assured him I was not hurt--I besought him to confide his sorrows to the faithful bosom of his wife! He appeared softened--his tears flowed without controul.