We would not venture too early. I believe it was past two before we left the armoury.--All was hushed.--The stairs!--the gallery!--her apartments!--I seized Richardson by the arm, as he attempted to turn the lock.--It seemed profanation. I feared every thing!--I would have gone back.--Richardson forbade me. We entered the antichamber. We crossed two others. The door of a third stood open.--In that there was a fire, a candle, and a bed.--The curtains were undrawn; and I caught a glimpse of her face. Instantly, I drew the door so close as only to admit my hand, holding out your letter.--I gasped.--'Speak for me,' I said to Richardson; 'Say, Miss Ashburn.' 'Rise, dear Miss Valmont,' said he, 'Miss Ashburn sends you this.' I heard her start from the bed.--'Who?--What?' 'Miss Ashburn,' repeated Richardson, 'Miss Ashburn, it is a letter from Miss Ashburn.' She took or rather snatched the letter; and, as I withdrew my hand, she shut the door hastily. I heard her utter an exclamation--I could hear her too burst into sobs and bless you.--I heard her also name another. At length she asked, without opening the door, if I was indeed Mr. Murden, and if I could take her from the castle. 'O yes, yes,' said I, 'Come away.' 'Stay,' she replied. She was dressed in an instant. She opened the door. She came out to us.--'Ah! what, what is the matter?' cried she, extending her arms as if to save me from falling.--Why were you not more explicit in your letter, Miss Ashburn?--I recoiled _from her_, from the remembrance of her Clement--and, as I leaned on Richardson's shoulder, I closed my dim eyes, and wished they might never more open upon recollection. 'Shame!' whispered Richardson, 'you are unmanned!' And so I am, Miss Ashburn. I think too, I should love revenge. I feel a rankling glow of satisfaction, as she walks past my chair, that I have so placed it I cannot look up and behold her. I recovered strength and courage while my horror remained unabated.--She saw I could hear, and she began to pour forth the effusions of her gratitude upon you and us.--She knew you had been in the castle. Her cruel uncle had informed her of it.--'And then,' said she, 'I fancied I must die without seeing any one that ever loved me.'--As she spoke, I turned my eyes from her now haggard and jaundiced face to my own, reflected in the mirror by which I was standing. 'Moving corpses!' said I to myself--'Why encumber ye the fair earth?' 'He showed me a letter too,' added she. 'He said Clement had renounced me.--Ah, Mr. Valmont! deceiving Mr. Valmont!'--and she waved her hand gracefully--'had you known Sibella's heart as she knows Clement's, you----.' 'Come away!' said I. 'Have you no other preparation to make, madam?' asked Richardson; 'the night is very cold.' This reminded her of a cloak.--She enquired if she must swim across the moat; and said she was sure she could swim;--for she knew why she had failed before.--I bade Richardson lead her.