Genius, devotion, and courage; the adornments of his mind, and the energies
of his soul, all exerted to their uttermost stretch, could not roll back
one hair's breadth the wheel of time's chariot; that which had been was
written with the adamantine pen of reality, on the everlasting volume of
the past; nor could agony and tears suffice to wash out one iota from the
act fulfilled.

But this was the best side of the question. What, if circumstance should
lead Perdita to suspect, and suspecting to be resolved? The fibres of his
frame became relaxed, and cold dew stood on his forehead, at this idea.
Many men may scoff at his dread; but he read the future; and the peace of
Perdita was too dear to him, her speechless agony too certain, and too
fearful, not to unman him. His course was speedily decided upon. If the
worst befell; if she learnt the truth, he would neither stand her
reproaches, or the anguish of her altered looks. He would forsake her,
England, his friends, the scenes of his youth, the hopes of coming time, he
would seek another country, and in other scenes begin life again. Having
resolved on this, he became calmer. He endeavoured to guide with prudence
the steeds of destiny through the devious road which he had chosen, and
bent all his efforts the better to conceal what he could not alter.

The perfect confidence that subsisted between Perdita and him, rendered
every communication common between them. They opened each other's letters,
even as, until now, the inmost fold of the heart of each was disclosed to
the other. A letter came unawares, Perdita read it. Had it contained
confirmation, she must have been annihilated. As it was, trembling, cold,
and pale, she sought Raymond. He was alone, examining some petitions lately
presented. She entered silently, sat on a sofa opposite to him, and gazed
on him with a look of such despair, that wildest shrieks and dire moans
would have been tame exhibitions of misery, compared to the living