and return directly with favourable answers.' That very night, he accomplished fifteen leagues." The old man trembled violently; he examined his son doubtingly, his face was pale. "Where have you seen all this?" demanded he at length. "Yonder in the mountains of Lozere, fourteen leagues from here." There was a pause. "I must believe you," said the father. "Be it a miracle, delirium, an undiscovered strength of nature; I see, but I understand it not. All is in reality as you have said, but your manner is terrible to me. Do you not then believe, that as you have fallen, in so unusually strange a manner, into this disposition, conviction, and miraculous gift, there may be also means, which heaven, if you in faith and humility call upon God will open to reconduct you into the ordinary walk of mankind, far from these fearful rocks upon which you must inevitably founder." "You understand me not, I tell you once more," cried the youth, "although I quite understand your meaning. You do not trust the token that I have given you. Yet," added, he smiling, "you are not quite so hardened just now, better thoughts steal over your soul, though also from the region of unbelief." "And what is it?" asked the father, "you will otherwise make me believe that you are able to penetrate into all the hidden depths of the heart." "You were thinking just now," said Edmond:-- "Let him take his course, the evil must now have reached its height, perhaps God wills that he should find at length by this more than wonderful means, his salvation, and that he may learn later to cool by reason and true christian humility, the fanaticism, that now transform him into a lunatic. Thus do you think of me, thus do you deny the spirit." "My son," said the old man with uplifted looks, "is it a good spirit that prompts you? is it not perhaps the wild wandering of nature herself in you that transports you beyond her own limits?" The son cast again that terrifying look on his father, which rendered him mute. "You are free," said the old man, "affection alone, not force should retain you. Go then and follow the dictates of your own heart. My prayers shall accompany you, and, may be, they will have the power to mitigate, or ward off the worst." "Surely you are not opposed to my taking to my poor brethren my small fortune," said Edmond perfectly tranquillised, "they are more in need of it than we." "Take also this purse from me," said the father, "I desire not to know to what purpose you destine it, but the unfortunate men yonder are in want of it."