He was prevented from returning an answer by a sudden fainting fit, which probably was the consequence of his having talked too much. I rang the bell for the nurse and retired with the intention of hearing the next morning the continuation of Paleski’s confession. A nameless sensation thrilled my whole frame when I went home. I wished and dreaded to find the Count at our hotel, being enraptured at the idea of treating the unmasked impostor with that humiliating contempt which he so well deserved; but shuddering at the thirst for revenge which I felt in my bosom, and that animated me to take a satisfaction against which my good genius warned me. However, to my and his fortune, he was not at home. He had, as Pietro told me, taken some papers out of his trunk, during my absence and left the house suddenly. The evening and the night passed without his being returned, and he was not come back in the morning when I went to the hospital.
I entered Paleski’s apartment, burning with impatience to hear his farther discoveries. But alas! he was on the brink of eternity, and died a few minutes after my arrival.
I would have given worlds if I could have prolonged the life of this man only for a few hours. His relation had thrown a light only over a part of my mysterious history, and a far greater part was still surrounded with impenetrable darkness. I have never been so sensible how much more painful half satisfied curiosity is, than utter ignorance or the most dreadful certainty. How much did I now repent that I had not interrogated Paleski the day before, on the fate of my tutor, Amelia’s sentiments for me and her abode. The Unknown had indeed given me very flattering hopes, with regard to these dear people; however, what reliance could I have on the promises of an impostor? Entirely left to myself, I was obliged to leave it to some fortunate accident, or to his generosity, whether I ever should have the happiness of meeting them again? Frail hope! and yet it was my only support in my friendless, distressing situation, the only prop on which I could lean. Being in a world to which I was almost an utter stranger, without a friend or guide, surrounded with the invisible snares of two impostors, threatened by an uncertain and gloomy futurity, I readily gave myself up to the sweet ideas of possibility, in order to console myself for the melancholy reality.
Two days were now elapsed, and the Count was not yet returned, which confirmed my apprehensions that he had fled. A look at his trunk suggested a thought to me which I could not shake off; the consequence was that I opened it with a master-key, with an intention to search whether I could not find some papers, which would throw a light upon several dark parts of my history.
(To be continued.)
For the New-York Weekly Magazine.