'Unhappy woman!--you know not what you ask! To be ingenuous, belongs to purity like yours!--Guilt, black as hell!--conscious, aggravated, damnable, guilt!--_Your fatal attachment_--my accursed jealousy!--Ah! Emma! I have injured you--but you are, indeed, revenged!' Every feature seemed to work--seemed pregnant with dreadful meaning--he was relapsing into frenzy. 'Be calm, my friend--be not unjust to yourself--you can have committed no injury that I shall not willingly forgive--you are incapable of persisting in guilt. The ingenuous mind, that avows, has already made half the reparation. Suffer me to learn the source of your inquietude! I may find much to extenuate--I may be able to convince you, that you are too severe to yourself.' 'Never, never, never!--nothing can extenuate--_the expiation must be made_!--Excellent, admirable, woman!--Remember, without hating, the wretch who has been unworthy of you--who could not conceive, who knew not how to estimate, your virtues!--Oh!--do not--do not'--straining me to his bosom--'curse my memory!' He started from the ground, and, in a moment, was out of sight. I raised myself with difficulty--faint, tottering, gasping for breath, I attempted to descend the stairs. I had scarcely reached the landing-place, when a violent knocking at the door shook my whole frame. I stood still, clinging to the balustrade, unable to proceed. I heard a chaise draw up--a servant opening the door--a plain-looking countryman alighted, and desired instantly to speak to the lady of the house--his business was, he said, of life and death! I advanced towards him, pale and trembling! 'What is the matter, my friend--whence came you?' 'I cannot stop, lady, to explain myself--you must come with me--I will tell you more as we go along.' 'Do you come,' enquired I, in a voice scarcely articulate, 'from my husband?' 'No--no--I come from a person who is dying, who has somewhat of consequence to impart to you--Hasten, lady--there is no time to lose!' 'Lead, then, I follow you.' He helped me into the chaise, and we drove off with the rapidity of lightning. CHAPTER XXV I asked no more questions on the road, but attempted to fortify my mind for the scenes which, I foreboded, were approaching. After about an hour's ride, we stopped at a small, neat, cottage, embosomed in trees, standing alone, at a considerable distance from the high-road. A decent-looking, elderly, woman, came to the door, at the sound of the carriage, and assisted me to alight. In her countenance were evident marks of perturbation and horror. I asked for a glass of water; and, having drank it, followed the woman, at her request, up stairs. She seemed inclined to talk, but I gave her no encouragement--I knew not what awaited me, nor what exertions might be requisite--I determined not to exhaust my spirits unnecessarily.