“I can easily forgive your doubts, De Haldimar,” returned the sympathizing Sumners, taking the hand of his companion, and pressing it gently in his own; “for, in truth, there is a great deal of mystery attached to the whole affair.  I have not seen the body myself; but I distinctly heard Captain Erskine state it certainly was not your brother, and he requested me to apprise both Sir Everard Valletort and yourself of the fact.”

“Who is the murdered man, then? and how comes he to be clad in the uniform of one of our officers?  Pshaw! it is too absurd to be credited.  Erskine is mistaken—­he must be mistaken—­it can be no other than my poor brother Frederick.  Sumners, I am sick, faint, with this cruel uncertainty:  go, my dear fellow, at once, and examine the body; then return to me, and satisfy my doubts, if possible.”

“Most willingly, if you desire it,” returned Sumners, moving towards the door; “but believe me, De Haldimar, you may make your mind tranquil on the subject;—­Erskine spoke with certainty.”

“Have you seen Valletort?” asked De Haldimar, while an involuntary shudder pervaded his fame.

“I have.  He flew on the instant to make further enquiries; and was in the act of going to examine the body of the murdered man when I came here.—­But here he is himself, and his countenance is the harbinger of any thing but a denial of my intelligence.”

“Oh, Charles, what a weight of misery has been removed from my heart!” exclaimed that officer, now rushing to the bedside of his friend, and seizing his extended hand,—­“Your brother, let us hope, still lives.”

“Almighty God, I thank thee!” fervently ejaculated De Haldimar; and then, overcome with joy, surprise, and gratitude, he again sank back upon his pillow, sobbing and weeping violently.

Sumners had, with delicate tact, retired the moment Sir Everard made his appearance; for he, as well as the whole body of officers, was aware of the close friendship that subsisted between the young men, and he felt, at such a moment, the presence of a third person must be a sort of violation of the sacredness of their interview.

For some minutes the young baronet stood watching in silence, and with his friend’s hand closely clasped in his own, the course of those tears which seemed to afford so much relief to the overcharged heart of the sufferer.  At length they passed gradually away; and a smile, expressive of the altered state of his feelings, for the first time animated the flushed but handsome features of the younger De Haldimar.

We shall not attempt to paint all that passed between the friends during the first interesting moments of an interview which neither had expected to enjoy again, or the delight and satisfaction with which they congratulated themselves on the futility of those fears, which, if realised, must have embittered every future moment of their lives with the most harrowing recollections.  Sir Everard, particularly, felt, and was not slow to express, his joy on this occasion; for, as he gazed upon the countenance of his friend, he was more than ever inclined to confess an interest in the sister he was said so much to resemble.