FROM SAINT PREUX TO MADAME D'ORBE

Mylord Edouard and I, after leaving you all yesterday, proceeded no
farther than Villeneuve; an accident to one of mylord's attendants
delayed us, and we spent the night there.

As you know, I had parted from Julie with regret, but without violent
emotion. Yet, strangely enough, when I was alone last night the old
grief came back. I had lost her! She lived and was happy; her life was
my death, her happiness my torment! I struggled with these ideas. When I
lay down, they pursued me in my sleep.

At length I started up from a hideous dream. I had seen Julie stretched
upon her death-bed. I knew it was she, although her face was covered by
a veil. I advanced to tear it off; I could not reach it. "Be calm, my
friend," she said feebly; "the veil of dread covers me, no hand can
remove it." I made another effort, and awoke.

Again I slept, again I dreamt the dream. A third time I slept, a third
time it appeared to me. This was too much. I fled from my room to mylord
Edouard's.

At first, he treated the dream as a jest; but, seeing my panic-stricken
earnestness, he changed his tune. "You will have a chance of recovering
your reason to-morrow," he said. Next morning we set out on our journey,
as I thought. Brooding over my dream, I never noticed that the lake was
on the left-hand of the carriage, that we were returning. When I roused
myself, I found that we were back again at Clarens!

"Now, go and see her again; prove that the dream was wrong," said