your fortitude, be governed by reason; Claudina is gone."
"Gone!" exclaimed the other, "how—where—when?"
"She went from hence last night, and is already in a place of safety."
"Then she cannot be far off," cried Ferdinand.
"Pardon me, Sir, when I said she was in a place of safety; it did not imply that she was at the end of her journey; but, however, here, Sir, is a letter, which she ordered me to deliver to you."—He hastily tore it open, and read the following lines:
"Adieu, my amiable and too tender husband:—Husband! O Heavens! my tears blot out the name; adieu then best, and most injured of men—warned by a miraculous event, I fly from you, from guilt and misery. Forget me and be happy: I am dead to you and the world; on the verge of the grave, the prospect was dreadful: I devote the rest of my days to penitence and prayer. My infant I take with me; she may one day
