“THE DANCE OF DHATH.
2I
upon the idea, which still deserts me not: Know, then—you have never yet seen the real’ original of the miniature. “It represents neither Jacoba nor Lucia, however much it may resemble them. Yes, I begin to hope that I “myself have:never till now become: acquainted with the “Original, “or rather, perhaps, that ’a-still fairer copy-of*this mysterious and enigmatieal picture is evennow unfolding itself beneath my eye. .A new riddle, youwill say—and I.admit it, but this riddle I can solve; only it must be verbally.’
« This letter madea singularimpressiorronme. His words seemed “to have dissipated for ever that feeling of terror with which; forssome time baek, the picture had inspired me!” I took it out anew from its case, and, as it beamed before me again in the innocent glow of youth, L wondered how these lovely and loving featurescould ever have worn in my eyes an aspect of evil, or that a distant resemblance to those two-girls—for that there was. a resemblance 1I could not deny-— should have made me insensible to its far-higher expression, its fulness of health and heavenly grace, in which those two living beings, notwith- standing their beauty, were so visibly-inferior.
“From this moment I gazed on it frequently, and with delight. My correspondence with Ema- nuel became: more regular; still, however; he evaded my invitation to visit. me; by saying*the time was not yet come; andrall I could learn of his studies or employments was, that he had de- voted himself entirely to painting, and principally to landscape painting. Pm
“ myself began to perceive that countrypur- suits did not exactly suit'my taste; and that I was in a great measure wasting my “time “in a resi-
“dence which was situated in a neighbourhood neither remarkable for its natural beauties, nor interesting from the society it afforded, and cut off, as it were, from literary and political news. Shortly afterwards the death of my aunt followed, and I made up my mind to leave the estate.
“I hastened without delay towards Copenha- gen. The portrait seemed to beckon me thither. Two years had now nearly elapsed since I hadseen my friend; and during the journey, my longing to see him again, my eagerness for thesolution of this dark-enigma, daily increased: I found my expectationy however, disappointed; when I reached his-iodging I found him not; only a letter of the following import was-delivered to
“Just as dwas awaiting yourarrival with impatience, and; [ must-add, with anxiety and un- easiness, I-received a message from home. My old and worthy father has been suddenly seized with an apoplectic stroke. He is still-alive; but I have seen too many of such attacks to indulge mucl hope of his recovery at-his advanced period of life. As-soonas all is over I shall hasten back. Wait for me patiently; or if I remain too long absént, and you are not afraid of the “house of death—then—do as you will.’ .
~ These lines contained, as you perceive, an indirect invitation. My friend bad been already, as I learned, eight days absent, nor had any intelligence been received from him dufing’ that time. In the latesthewspaperts which I called for, I found no announcement of death; Fecalculated, “therefore, that the invalid was still alive, and I felt “convinced that my sympathy and friendly offices “might be-usefal to my friend in the hour of sor- row. An internal voice seemed to whisper to “me, that his heart would, in such’a state of mind, be more readily and confidentially opened to me. I required only to get my comfortable and well- covered travelling carriage ready, which e defiance to the cold blasts of autumn; which had already set in—and*in four-and-twenty hours I “knew I should be at his side.
“INo sooner was the resolution formed than it was executed. Next morning, though some- what later than I had»wished, I was travelling southward from the capital: A sharp north-east wind whistled around the carriage, which lulled a little towards evening, as i reached,;’in “the twilight, a solitary posting station, where we chapged:horses; but it was succeeded by a thick mass of clouds, which, gradually overspreading the heavens with their dark veil, threatened every instant to descend in torrents of rain.
“An uncovered but respectable looking coun- try vehicle, which appeared to have arrived be- fore me, had just’>been drawn into the shed; and in the travellers’ room, where I-sat down till the horses should be ready, I found a young female, closely wrapped in a hood and mantle, walking up and down, evidently in great agitation.
“I had thrown myself, somewhat ill-lumour- edly at having probably to wait here for some time, upon a seat near the window, paying little attention to what was passing in the apartment, “till I was suddenly aroused by an active dispute, at first carried on in a low voice, but gradually becoming louder.: » I must: proceed,’ said a clear, sweet, sil- very-toned-voice. “If I can bear the wind and rain, so may your horses and yourself. You know not the anxiety which urges me on.’
“The peasant, with whom the trembling and mantled female spoke,seemed immovable. “ We areChristians,’ replied he, doggedly, “ and should spare our beasts and curselves. We shall have nothing but rain-and storm all night. Here we bave rest and shelter—without, who knows what may happen in such atempest—and your friends, Miss, have given me the strictest.charge to take care of you. These tender limbs of yours are not fitted to bear what I might look upon as a trifle: your health might suffer for ever.—Upon my conscience, I cannot do it.’
“Nay hay,’ replied the young lady, “I am strong 2 ys It is not'the tempest with wig I feel within, that may prove fatal tome.’
“The faint and touching notes of her voice awakened my deepest sympathy. I stept for- ward, put a question to herjand learned that the young lady was most apxious to reach her birth- place to-night, and had with that view availed herself of a conveyance returning from the ca- pital:—filial duty, she said, was the motive of her
