Every plan relative to him being now arranged, and the day declining, St. Julian sat down to pen his letter to his father, whilst his agonized Madeline hung over him, and Lafroy retired to pack up a few necessaries for him.
The letter concluded, he devoted the little time he had to remain in the castle to the purpose of consoling his Madeline, and exhorting her to fortitude. She promised to exert herself, but it was a promise given in such a manner, with such tears and sobs, as gave her father little hope she would ever be able to fulfil it.
With streaming eyes she watched the last lingering beams of day, and fancied that darkness had never before been so quick in its approach. At length Lafroy appeared; he carried a glimmering light, which he laid upon a table, and told the Count, in a whispering voice, that it was time to depart. He instantly arose—"farewell! my child, (said he, straining his Madeline to his heart),
