CHAPTER VII.
"Clarice, meanwhile, was absent. Her friend seemed, at the end of a month, to be little less distant from the grave than at first. My impatience would not allow me to wait till her death: I visited her; but was once more obliged to return alone. I arrived late in the city; and, being greatly fatigued, I retired almost immediately to my chamber.
"On hearing of my arrival, Sarsefield hastened to see me. He came to my bedside; and such, in his opinion, was the importance of the tidings which he had to communicate, that he did not scruple to rouse me from a deep sleep."
At this period of his narrative, Clithero stopped; his complexion varied from one degree of paleness to another; his brain appeared to suffer some severe constriction: he desired to be excused for a few minutes from proceeding. In a short time he was relieved from this paroxysm, and resumed his tale with an accent tremulous at first, but acquiring stability and force as he went on.
"On waking, as I have said, I found my friend seated at my bedside: his countenance exhibited various tokens of alarm. As soon as I perceived who it was, I started, exclaiming—'What is the matter?"
"He sighed.
"'Pardon,' said he, 'this unseasonable intrusion: a light matter would not have occasioned it. I have waited for two days past in an agony of impatience for your return; happily you are at last come. I stand in the utmost need of your counsel and aid.'
"'Heaven defend!' cried I; 'this is a terrible prelude. You may, of course, rely upon my assistance and advice: what is it that you have to propose?'
"'Tuesday evening,' he answered, 'I spent here. It was late before I returned to my lodgings. I was in the act of lifting my hand to the bell, when my eye was caught by a person standing close to the wall, at the distance of
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