riving augmented resolution, as he had hoped, from the recollection, he experienced an emotion of alarm, of consternation; so that even, as a relief from the torment of retrospection, he thought of Lucy. "She lives still," said he, "she is here; there is yet time. I have it in my power to say to her. Go in peace! I can also ask her forgiveness. Forgiveness! I ask forgiveness of a woman! Ah, if in that word existed the power to drive this demon from my soul, I would say it; yes, I feel that I would say it. To what am I reduced? I am no longer myself! Well, well! many a time have such follies passed through my head; this will take its flight also."
And to procure the desired forgetfulness, he endeavoured to busy himself with some new project; but in vain: all appeared changed! that which at another time would have been a stimulus to action, had now lost its charm; his imagination was overwhelmed with the insupportable weight of remembered crimes. Even the idea of continuing to associate with those whom he had employed as the instruments of his daring and licentious will was revolting to his soul; and, disgusted and weary, he found relief only in the thought that by the dawn of morning he would set at liberty the unfortunate Lucy.
"I will save her; yes, I will save her. As soon as the day breaks, I will fly to her, and say. Go, go in peace. But my promise! Ay, who is Don Roderick that I should hold sacred a promise made to him?" With the perplexity of a man to whom a superior addresses unexpectedly an embarrassing question, the Unknown endeavoured to reply to this his own, or, rather, that was whispered by this new principle, that had of a sudden sprung up so awfully in his soul, to pass judgment upon him. He wondered how he could have resolved to engage himself to inflict suffering, without any motive of hatred or fear, on an unfortunate being whom he did not know, only to render a service to this man. He could not find any excuse for it; he could not even imagine how he had been led to do it. The hasty determination had been the impulse of a mind obedient to its habitual feelings, the consequence of a thousand previous
