It was a very awful moment—a moment in which the heart almost ceases to beat, and the only utterance of the soul can be a cry to the God that made it! It seemed as in answer to that instinctive prayer to the ear that is never closed, that the whirlwind soon appeared to lessen its violence, the motion of the balloon abated, the frightful swinging of the car ceased, and Augustine uttered a faint “thank God!” while Dashleigh sank senseless at his feet! CHAPTER XXIII. REGRETS. There is no wretchedness where guilt is not; Religion can relieve the sharpest woes, All—save remorse, be softened or forgot! But where can she—the hopeless, find repose Whose anguish from her own transgression flows! My pride—my folly—bade a husband die, His life embittered, hastened on its close! Yes, weep, ye who can weep,—but I—but I— My heart weeps tears of blood,—and yet my eyes are dry! The mind of Ida was not quite satisfied that it was right in her sister to ascend in the _Eaglet_, contrary to the direct and positive prohibition of her step-mother. Ida could not help suspecting that she herself had not proved altogether a safe guide for her younger sister; she feared that while discouraging the expedition on the plea of danger, she had not sufficiently done so on the score of duty. The more Ida reflected on the subject, the more conscience reproached her for rather nurturing than repressing the spirit of independence which proudly rose against the control of Mrs. Aumerle, both in Mabel’s heart and her own. Ida was not one to deaden conscience by refusing to listen to its voice, and she arose on the morning of the 12th resolved to use her strongest persuasions to induce Mabel to give up her project. She went to the room of her sister, but found it already empty; and then proceeded to the garden, but Mabel had left it some minutes before. Ida felt that it was too late for her to undo any mischief which might have been done, and made no mention at the breakfast table of Mabel’s intention to ascend, not wishing to be the first to draw upon her sister the displeasure of Mrs. Aumerle. “Perhaps,” thought Ida, “reflection has had the same effect upon Mabel that it has had upon myself; she may have come to the like conclusion that it would be wrong to go in the car. I earnestly hope that it may be so, for I feel a strange uneasiness at the thought of her venturing aloft. Yet there can be no real danger, or my uncle would never have wished to take Mabel with him, nor my dear father have half consented to her going up in the balloon. If she only come back in safety I shall feel a weight taken off my heart, and I shall in future more earnestly try to lead her aright in all things.” About the hour of noon, as the vicar was writing in his study, he was interrupted by the entrance of Ida.