But when the
young man told how Walter Brome had taunted him with indubitable proofs
of the shame of Alice, and, before the triumphant sneer could vanish from
his face, had died by her brother's hand, the wizard laughed aloud.
Leonard started, but just then a gust of wind came down the chimney,
forming itself into a close resemblance of the slow, unvaried laughter,
by which he had been interrupted. "I was deceived," thought he; and thus
pursued his fearful story.
"I trod out his accursed soul, and knew that he was dead; for my spirit
bounded as if a chain had fallen from it and left me free. But the burst
of exulting certainty soon fled, and was succeeded by a torpor over my
brain and a dimness before my eyes, with the sensation of one who
struggles through a dream. So I bent down over the body of Walter Brome,
gazing into his face, and striving to make my soul glad with the thought,
that he, in very truth, lay dead before me. I know not what space of
time I had thus stood, nor how the vision came. But it seemed to me that
the irrevocable years since childhood had rolled back, and a scene, that
had long been confused and broken in my memory, arrayed itself with all
its first distinctness.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202