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moment； he said； that we could not explain by what motives he that
made the signal was led hither。 How imperfectly acquainted were we
with the condition and designs of the beings that surrounded us！
The city was near at hand； and thousands might there exist whose
powers and purposes might easily explain whatever was mysterious in
this transaction。 As to the closet dialogue； he was obliged to
adopt one of two suppositions； and affirm either that it was
fashioned in my own fancy； or that it actually took place between
two persons in the closet。
Such was Carwin's mode of explaining these appearances。 It is
such； perhaps； as would commend itself as most plausible to the
most sagacious minds； but it was insufficient to impart conviction
to us。 As to the treason that was meditated against me； it was
doubtless just to conclude that it was either real or imaginary；
but that it was real was attested by the mysterious warning in the
summer…house； the secret of which I had hitherto locked up in my
own breast。
A month passed away in this kind of intercourse。 As to Carwin； our
ignorance was in no degree enlightened respecting his genuine
character and views。 Appearances were uniform。 No man possessed a
larger store of knowledge； or a greater degree of skill in the
communication of it to others； hence he was regarded as an
inestimable addition to our society。 Considering the distance of
my brother's house from the city； he was frequently prevailed upon
to pass the night where he spent the evening。 Two days seldom
elapsed without a visit from him； hence he was regarded as a kind
of inmate of the house。 He entered and departed without ceremony。
When he arrived he received an unaffected welcome； and when he
chose to retire no importunities were used to induce him to remain。
Carwin never parted with his gravity。 The inscrutableness of his
character； and the uncertainty whether his fellowship tended to
good or to evil； were seldom absent from our minds。 This
circumstance powerfully contributed to sadden us。
My heart was the seat of growing disquietudes。 This change in one
who had formerly been characterized by all the exuberances of soul
could not fail to be remarked by my friends。 My brother was always
a pattern of solemnity。 My sister was clay； molded by the
circumstances in which she happened to be placed。 There was but
one whose deportment remains to be described as being of importance
to our happiness。 Had Pleyel likewise dismissed his vivacity？
He was as whimsical and jestful as ever； but he was not happy。 The
truth in this respect was of too much importance to me not to make
me a vigilant observer。 His mirth was easily perceived to be the
fruit of exertion。 When his thoughts wandered from the company； an
air of dissatisfaction and impatience stole across his features。
Even the punctuality and frequency of his visits were somewhat
lessened。 It may be supposed that my own uneasiness was heightened
by these tokens； but； strange as it may seem； I found； in the
present state of my mind； no relief but in the persuasion that
Pleyel was unhappy。
That unhappiness； indeed； depended for its value in my eyes on the
cause that produced it。 There was but one source whence it could
flow。 A nameless ecstasy thrilled through my frame when any new
proof occurred that the ambiguousness of my behavior was the cause。
IV
My brother had received a new book from Germany。 It was a tragedy；
and the first attempt of a Saxon poet of whom my brother had been
taught to entertain the highest expectations。 The exploits of
Zisca； the Bohemian hero； were woven into a dramatic series and
connection。 According to German custom； it was minute and diffuse；
and dictated by an adventurous and lawless fancy。 It was a chain
of audacious acts and unheard…of disasters。 The moated fortress
and the thicket； the ambush and the battle； and the conflict of
headlong passions； were portrayed in wild numbers and with terrific
energy。 An afternoon was set apart to rehearse this performance。
The language was familiar to all of us but Carwin； whose company；
therefore； was tacitly dispensed with。
The morning previous to this intended rehearsal I spent at home。
My mind was occupied with reflections relative to my own situation。
The sentiment which lived with chief energy in my heart was
connected with the image of Pleyel。 In the midst of my anguish； I
had not been destitute of consolation。 His late deportment had
given spring to my hopes。 Was not the hour at hand which should
render me the happiest of human creatures？ He suspected that I
looked with favorable eyes upon Carwin。 Hence arose disquietudes
which he struggled in vain to conceal。 He loved me； but was
hopeless that his love would be compensated。 Is it not time； said
I； to rectify this error？ But by what means is this to be
effected？ It can only be done by a change of deportment in me； but
how must I demean myself for this purpose？
I must not speak。 Neither eyes nor lips must impart the
information。 He must not be assured that my heart is his； previous
to the tender of his own； but he must be convinced that it has not
been given to another； he must be supplied with space whereon to
build a doubt as to the true state of my affections； he must be
prompted to avow himself。 The line of delicate propriety；how
hard it is not to fall short； and not to overleap it！
This afternoon we shall meet。 。 。 。 We shall not separate till
late。 It will be his province to accompany me home。 The airy
expanse is without a speck。 This breeze is usually steadfast； and
its promise of a bland and cloudless evening may be trusted。 The
moon will rise at eleven； and at that hour we shall wind along this
bank。 Possibly that hour may decide my fate。 If suitable
encouragement be given； Pleyel will reveal his soul to me； and I；
ere I reach this threshold； will be made the happiest of beings。
And is this good to be mine？ Add wings to thy speed； sweet
evening； and thou； moon； I charge thee； shroud thy beams at the
moment when my Pleyel whispers love。 I would not for the world
that the burning blushes and the mounting raptures of that moment
should be visible。
But what encouragement is wanting？ I must be regardful of
insurmountable limits。 Yet； when minds are imbued with a genuine
sympathy； are not words and looks superfluous？ Are not motion and
touch sufficient to impart feelings such as mine？ Has he not eyed
me at moments when the pressure of his hand has thrown me into
tumults； and was it impossible that he mistook the impetuosities of
love for the eloquence of indignation？
But the hastening evening will decide。 Would it were come！ And
yet I shudder at its near approach。 An interview that must thus
terminate is surely to be wished for by me； and yet it is not
without its terrors。 Would to heaven it were come and gone！
I f