I began to long for a catastrophe. If the noble temper of

Hollingsworth's soul were doomed to be utterly corrupted by the too

powerful purpose which had grown out of what was noblest in him; if the

rich and generous qualities of Zenobia's womanhood might not save her;

if Priscilla must perish by her tenderness and faith, so simple and so

devout, then be it so! Let it all come! As for me, I would look on,

as it seemed my part to do, understandingly, if my intellect could

fathom the meaning and the moral, and, at all events, reverently and

sadly. The curtain fallen, I would pass onward with my poor individual

life, which was now attenuated of much of its proper substance, and

diffused among many alien interests.

Meanwhile, Zenobia and her companion had retreated from the window.

Then followed an interval, during which I directed my eves towards the

figure in the boudoir. Most certainly it was Priscilla, although

dressed with a novel and fanciful elegance. The vague perception of

it, as viewed so far off, impressed me as if she had suddenly passed

out of a chrysalis state and put forth wings. Her hands were not now

in motion. She had dropt her work, and sat with her head thrown back,

in the same attitude that I had seen several times before, when she

seemed to be listening to an imperfectly distinguished sound.

Again the two figures in the drawing-room became visible. They were

now a little withdrawn from the window, face to face, and, as I could

see by Zenobia's emphatic gestures, were discussing some subject in

which she, at least, felt a passionate concern. By and by she broke

away, and vanished beyond my ken. Westervelt approached the window,

and leaned his forehead against a pane of glass, displaying the sort of

smile on his handsome features which, when I before met him, had let me

into the secret of his gold-bordered teeth. Every human being, when

given over to the Devil, is sure to have the wizard mark upon him, in

one form or another. I fancied that this smile, with its peculiar

revelation, was the Devil's signet on the Professor.

This man, as I had soon reason to know, was endowed with a cat-like

circumspection; and though precisely the most unspiritual quality in

the world, it was almost as effective as spiritual insight in making

him acquainted with whatever it suited him to discover. He now proved

it, considerably to my discomfiture, by detecting and recognizing me,

at my post of observation. Perhaps I ought to have blushed at being

caught in such an evident scrutiny of Professor Westervelt and his

affairs. Perhaps I did blush. Be that as it might, I retained

presence of mind enough not to make my position yet more irksome by the

poltroonery of drawing back.




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