“Yes, and the headlong passion which Emily inspired her cousin with abetted his designs.”

“Then her cousin loved Emily?” inquired Edward.

“Oh, to desperation,” was the reply.  “He was a rival to her shadow, who followed her not more closely than he did.  He was jealous of the rose that she placed on her bosom.”

“Then poor Emily is not likely to have a calm life with such a man,” said Edward.

“Come,” interposed the old gentleman, with en authoritative tone, “I think you, gentlemen, go a little too far.  I know D’Effernay; he is an honest, talented man, very rich, indeed, and generous; he anticipates his wife in every wish.  She has the most brilliant house in the neighborhood, and lives like a princess.”

“And trembles,” insisted the lieutenant, “when she hears her husband’s footstep.  What good can riches be to her?  She would have been happier with Hallberg.”

“I do not know,” rejoined the captain, “why you always looked upon that attachment as something so decided.  It never appeared so to me; and you yourself say that D’Effernay is very jealous, which I believe him to be, for he is a man of strong passions; and this very circumstance causes me to doubt the rest of your story.  Jealousy has sharp eyes, and D’Effernay would have discovered a rival in Hallberg, and not proved himself the friend he always was to our poor comrade.”

“That does not follow at all,” replied the lieutenant, “it only proves that the lovers were very cautious.  So far, however, I agree with you.  I believe that if D’Effernay had suspected anything of the kind he would have murdered Hallberg.”

A shudder passed through Edward’s veins.

“Murdered!” he repeated, in a hollow voice; “do you not judge too harshly of this man when you hint the possibility of such a thing?”

“That does he, indeed,” said the old man; “these gentlemen are all angry with D’Effernay, because he has carried off the prettiest girl in the country.  But I am told he does not intend remaining where he now lives.  He wishes to sell his estates.”

“Really,” inquired the captain, “and where is he going?”

“I have no idea,” replied the other; “but he is selling everything off.  One manor is already disposed of, and there have been people already in negotiation for the place where he resides.”

The conversation now turned on the value of D’Effernay’s property, and of land in general, &c.

Edward had gained materials enough for reflection; he rose soon, took leave of the company, and gave himself up, in the solitude of his own room, to the torrent of thought and feeling which that night’s conversation had let loose.  So, then, it was true; Emily Varnier was no fabulous being!  Hallberg had loved her, his love had been returned, but a cruel destiny had separated them.  How wonderfully did all he had heard explain the dream at the Castle, and how completely did that supply what had remained