“Alice! bethink you! he is a man of fearful passions, yet of profound subtlety and secretiveness. He believed you dead and was about to be married. He finds that he has been deceived in your death, and that his own marriage is about to be ridiculously broken off. He has imaginary injuries to revenge, and endangered joys to secure—both ends to be reached by one means. And, more than all, he has the fearful temptation of fancied impunity. Alice, take care! This open door—this silent house—this lonely watcher in the solitary chamber—this deep night hour—and the expected lonely visitor. Alice, take care!” whispered Magnus. “Horrible! most horrible. You make my blood curdle. Not with fear, but with horror, at the monster in your imagination. You must not enter with me. I will go in alone. Follow, if you please to do so, at a short distance. I have no such dreadful fear or doubt. I tremble, it is true; but I should also tremble if, in broad daylight, a score of people witnessed our meeting. Come on, and remain upon the landing while I go in.” * * * * * On entering his chamber General Garnet suddenly bethought himself of something—he could not exactly think what—forgotten. A strange absence of mind, temporary loss of memory, transient confusion of thought, had fitfully afflicted him all day long. He put his hand to his forehead, and walked up and down in doubt and perplexity, then suddenly recollecting what he wanted, he rang the bell, and when a servant, half-dressed, appeared, demanded, impatiently: “Anything from the post office to-day, sir?” “Yes, marser. Bob, he went to de post office an’ fotch de bag.” “Then where is it, you scoundrel? and why was it not brought to me?” stamped the master. “De-ur-ur——” stammered the negro, in fear and perplexity, scratching his head for an answer. “Sir!” thundered General Garnet. And the reply bolted from the lips of the negro as if thumped out by a blow between his shoulders: “Ugh! Yes, sir! You wan’t comed home when it ’riv, marser, an’ I hanged it on a chair by de liberry table, where you could see it when you comed.” “And if I had forgotten all about it, as I did, you scoundrel! Go and bring it to me. Vanish!” The man precipitately retreated, and soon reappeared with the mail-bag, which he placed in the hands of his master, who immediately opened and turned out its contents. “Only one letter! And that—— D——!” exclaimed General Garnet, recognizing the handwriting of Magnus Hardcastle in the superscription of Alice’s letter. “Here, you sir! Come here!” added he, hastily blotting out the superscription and re-directing it. “Come here! take this letter! By the earliest dawn to-morrow take it back to the post office, that it may be in time for the mail, and tell the postmaster to send it back where it came from.” He tossed the letter toward the feet of the negro, who tremblingly approached, picked it up, and retired from the chamber.