When we separated for the night, which we did at eleven o'clock, Margrave
said,--

"Good-night and good-by. I must leave you to-morrow, Strahan, and before
your usual hour for rising. I took the liberty of requesting one of your
men to order me a chaise from L----. Pardon my seeming abruptness, but I
always avoid long leave-takings, and I had fixed the date of my departure
almost as soon as I accepted your invitation."

"I have no right to complain. The place must be dull indeed to a gay
young fellow like you. It is dull even to me. I am meditating flight
already. Are you going back to L----?"

"Not even for such things as I left at my lodgings. When I settle
somewhere and can give an address, I shall direct them to be sent to me.
There are, I hear, beautiful patches of scenery towards the north, only
known to pedestrian tourists. I am a good walker; and you know, Fenwick,
that I am also a child of Nature. Adieu to you both; and many thanks to
you, Strahan, for your hospitality."

He left the room.

"I am not sorry he is going," said Strahan, after a pause, and with a
quick breath as if of relief. "Do you not feel that he exhausts one? An
excess of oxygen, as you would say in a lecture."

I was alone in my own chamber; I felt indisposed for bed and for sleep;
the curious conversation I had held with Margrave weighed on me. In that
conversation, we had indirectly touched upon the prodigies which I had not