solemn, but it need not divest you of the fortitude becoming a man."

The sound of my voice startled him. He broke from me, looked up, and
fixed his eyes upon me with an expression of affright. He shuddered and
recoiled as from a spectre. I began to repent of my experiment. I could
say nothing suitable to this occasion. I was obliged to stand a silent
and powerless spectator, and to suffer this paroxysm to subside of
itself. When its violence appeared to be somewhat abated, I resumed:--

"I can feel for you. I act not thus in compliance with a temper that
delights in the misery of others. The explanation that I have solicited
is no less necessary for your sake than for mine. You are no stranger to
the light in which I viewed this man. You have witnessed the grief which
his fate occasioned, and the efforts that I made to discover and drag to
punishment his murderer. You heard the execrations that I heaped upon
him, and my vows of eternal revenge. You expect that, having detected
the offender, I will hunt him to infamy and death. You are mistaken. I
consider the deed as sufficiently expiated.

"I am no stranger to your gnawing cares; to the deep and incurable
despair that haunts you, to which your waking thoughts are a prey, and
from which sleep cannot secure you. I know the enormity of your crime,
but I know not your inducements. Whatever they were, I see the
consequences with regard to yourself. I see proofs of that remorse which
must ever be attendant on guilt.

"This is enough. Why should the effects of our misdeeds be
inexhaustible? Why should we be debarred from a comforter? An
opportunity of repairing our errors may, at least, be demanded from the
rulers of our destiny.