Zanoni — Edward Bulwer-Lytton

pestilence, was the first sight of the shadowy spy to that of the Revolution: the watch, the arrest, the trial, the guillotine, — these made the regular and rapid steps of the monster that the anarchists called Law! He breathed hard, he heard distinctly the loud beating of his heart. And so he paused, still and motionless, gazing upon the shadow that halted also behind him. Presently, the absence of all allies to the spy, the solitude of the streets, reanimated his courage; he made a step towards his pursuer, who retreated as he advanced. “Citizen, thou followest me,” he said. “Thy business?” “Surely,” answered the man, with a deprecating smile, “the streets are broad enough for both? Thou art not so bad a republican as to arrogate all Paris to thyself! ” “Go on first, then. I make way for thee.” The man bowed, doffed his hat politely, and passed forward. The next moment Glyndon plunged into a winding lane, and fled fast through a labyrinth of streets, passages, and alleys. By degrees he composed himself, and, looking behind, imagined that he had baffled the pursuer; he then, by a circuitous route, bent his way once more to his home. As he emerged into one of the broader streets, a passenger, wrapped in a mantle, brushing so quickly by him that he did not observe his countenance, whispered, “Clarence Glyndon, you are dogged, — follow me! ” and the stranger walked quickly before him. Clarence turned, and sickened once more to see at his heels, with the same servile smile on his face, the pursuer he fancied he had escaped. He forgot the injunction of the stranger to follow him, and perceiving a crowd gathered close at hand, round a caricature-shop, dived amidst them, and, gaining another

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street, altered the direction he had before taken, and, after a long and breathless course, gained without once more seeing the spy, a distant guartier of the city. Here, indeed, all seemed so serene and fair that his artist eye, even in that imminent hour, rested with pleasure on the scene. It was a comparatively broad space, formed by one of the noble quays. The Seine flowed majestically along, with boats and craft resting on its surface.

The sun gilt a thousand spires and domes, and gleamed on the white palaces of a fallen chivalry. Here, fatigued and panting, he paused an instant, and a cooler air from the river fanned his brow. “ Awhile, at least, I am safe here,” he murmured; and as he spoke, some thirty paces behind him, he beheld the spy.

He stood rooted to the spot; wearied and spent as he was, escape seemed no longer possible, — the river on one side (no bridge at hand), and the long row of mansions closing up the other. As he halted, he heard laughter and obscene songs from a house a little in his rear, between himself and the spy. It wasa café fearfully known in that quarter. Hither often resorted the black troop of Henriot, — the minions and huissiers of Robespierre.

The spy, then, had hunted the victim within the jaws of the hounds. The man slowly advanced, and, pausing before the open window of the café, put his head through the aperture, as to address and summon forth its armed inmates.

At that very instant, and while the spy’s head was thus turned from him, standing in the half-open gateway of the house immediately before him, he perceived the stranger who had warned; the figure, scarcely distinguishable through the mantle that wrapped it, motioned to him to enter. He sprang noiselessly through the friendly opening: the door closed; breathlessly he fol-

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lowed the stranger up a flight of broad stairs and through a suite of empty rooms, until, having gained a small cabinet, his conductor doffed the large hat and the long mantle that had hitherto concealed his shape and features, and Glyndon beheld Zanoni!

—_ eee ee ee err

CHAPTER Ix.

Think no my magic wonders wrought by aid Of Sty giae angels summoned up from bell; Scorned and accarsei be those who have essayed Hez gloomy Dives and Afrites to compel Bat by perception of the secret powers Of mineral springs im Nature's inmost cell, Of herbs im curtain of ber greenest bowers, Aad of the moving stars o'er mountain tops and towers. Wirres’s Translation of Tasso, cant. xiv. xii

“Yow aré safe here, young Englishman! ” said Zanoni, é motioning Glyndon to 2 seat. “Fortunate for you that

I come on your track at last! ” * Var happier had it been if we had never met! Yet

- @ven im these last hours of my fate, I rejoice to look once more on the face of that ominous and mysterious being to whom I ean aseribe all the sufferings I have known, Her, then, thon shalt not palter with or elude me. Here, before we part, thou shalt unravel to me the dark enigma, if not of thy life, of my own! ” * Hast thou suffered? Poor neophyte! ” said Zanoni, Pityingly. “Yes; I se it on thy brow. But wherefore wouldst thou blame me? Did I not warn thee against the whispers of thy spirit; did I not warn thee to forbear? Did I not tell thee that the ordeal was one of awful hazard and tremendous fears, — nay, did I not offer to resign to thee the heart that was mighty enough, while mine, Glyndon, to content me? Was it mot thine own daring and resolute choice to brave the

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