"I told you that I was not the owner of this castle: I spoke truth; inquire no farther." As his brow grew contracted, his eyes wild, and his whole figure agitated, Ferdinand repressed his curiosity, and prepared to depart. The other attended him to the gate with a sort of sullen civility, and opened it without speaking. Ferdinand took his hand, "Heavens bless you," said he, "I thank your charity. Must we never meet again?" The supplicating tone melted the hardened heart of the stranger, his features relaxed:—"Why should you wish it?"
"Not from an unwarrantable curiosity," returned the other, "not from a wish to penetrate farther into your secrets, or your habitation, than you would choose to allow of; but from sympathy, from a desire of participating in sorrow, and a wish to render your situation less deplorable by the converse of a fellow sufferer."
The man paused, viewed Ferdinand from head to foot with a searching eye, opened his mouth to speak, again paused, and turned from
