hours。　　At　lengthhorrible；　far　more　horrible　to　him　than　the
  vision　of　the　ghostEuphra　crept　past　him；　appearing　in　the
  darkness　to　crawl　along　the　wall　against　which　she　supported
  herself；　and　scarcely　suppressing　her　groans　of　pain。　　She　reached
  her　own　room；　and　entering；　closed　the　door。
  Hugh　was　nearly　mad。　　He　rushed　down　the　stair　to　the　library；　and
  out　into　the　wood。　　Why　or　whither　he　knew　not。
  Suddenly　he　received　a　blow　on　the　head。　　It　did　not　stun　him；　but
  he　staggered　under　it。　　Had　he　run　against　a　tree？　　No。　There　was
  the　dim　bulk　of　a　man　disappearing　through　the　boles。　　He　darted
  after　him。　　The　man　heard　his　footsteps；　stopped；　and　waited　in
  silence。　　As　Hugh　came　up　to　him；　he　made　a　thrust　at　him　with　some
  weapon。　　He　missed　his　aim。　　The　weapon　passed　through　his　coat　and
  under　his　arm。　　The　next　moment；　Hugh　had　wrenched　the　sword…stick
  from　him；　thrown　it　away；　and　grappled　withFunkelstein。　　But
  strong　as　Hugh　was；　the　Bohemian　was　as　strong；　and　the　contest　was
  doubtful。　　Strange　as　it　may　seemin　the　midst　of　it；　while　each
  held　the　other　unable　to　move；　the　conviction　flashed　upon　Hugh's
  mind；　that；　whoever　might　have　taken　Lady　Euphrasia's　ring；　he　was
  grappling　with　the　thief　of　his　father's。
  〃Give　me　my　ring；〃　gasped　he。
  An　imprecation　of　a　sufficiently　emphatic　character　was　the　only
  reply。　　The　Bohemian　got　one　hand　loose；　and　Hugh　heard　a　sound　like
  the　breaking　of　glass。　　Before　he　could　gain　any　advantagefor　his
  antagonist　seemed　for　the　moment　to　have　concentrated　all　his　force
  in　the　other　handa　wet　handkerchief　was　held　firmly　to　his　face。
  His　fierceness　died　away；　he　was　lapt　in　the　vapour　of　dreams；　and
  his　senses　departed。
  CHAPTER　XXIX。
  HUGH'S　AWAKING。
  But　ah！　believe　me；　there　is　more　than　so；
  That　works　such　wonders　in　the　minds　of　men；
  I；　that　have　often　proved；　too　well　it　know；
  And　whoso　list　the　like　assays　to　ken；
  Shall　find　by　trial；　and　confess　it　then；
  That　beauty　is　not；　as　fond　men　misdeem；
  An　outward　show　of　things　that　only　seem！
  But　ye；　fair　dames；　the　world's　dear　ornaments；
  And　lively　images　of　heaven's　light；
  Let　not　your　beams　with　such　disparagements
  Be　dimmed；　and　your　bright　glory　darkened　quite；
  But；　mindful　still　of　your　first　country's　sight；
  Do　still　preserve　your　first　informed　grace；
  Whose　shadow　yet　shines　in　your　beauteous　face。
  SPENSER。Hymn　in　Honour　of　Beauty。
  When　Hugh　came　to　himself；　he　was　lying；　in　the　first　grey　of　the
  dawn；　amidst　the　dews　and　vapours　of　the　morning　woods。　　He　rose　and
  looked　around　him。　　The　Ghost's　Walk　lay　in　long　silence　before　him。
  Here　and　there　a　little　bird　moved　and　peeped。　　The　glory　of　a　new
  day　was　climbing　up　the　eastern　coast　of　heaven。　　It　would　be　a　day
  of　late　summer；　crowned　with　flame；　and　throbbing　with　ripening
  life。　　But　for　him　the　spirit　was　gone　out　of　the　world；　and　it　was
  nought　but　a　mass　of　blind；　heartless　forces。
  Possibly；　had　he　overheard　the　conversation；　the　motions　only　of
  which　he　had　overseen　the　preceding　night；　he　would；　although
  equally　perplexed；　have　thought　more　gently　of　Euphra；　but；　in　the
  mood　into　which　even　then　he　must　have　been　thrown；　his　deeper
  feelings　towards　her　could　hardly　have　been　different　from　what　they
  were　now。　　Although　he　had　often　felt　that　Euphra　was　not　very　good；
  not　a　suspicion　had　crossed　his　mind　as　to　what　he　would　have　called
  the　purity　of　her　nature。　　Like　many　youths；　even　of　character
  inferior　to　his　own；　he　had　the　loftiest　notions　of　feminine　grace；
  and　unspottedness　in　thought　and　feeling；　not　to　say　action　and　aim。
  Now　he　found　that　he　had　loved　a　woman　who　would　creep　from　her
  chamber；　at　the　cost　of　great　suffering；　and　almost　at　the　risk　of
  her　life；　to　meet；　in　the　night　and　the　woods；　a　man　no　better　than
  an　assassinprobably　a　thief。　　Had　he　been　more　versed　in　the　ways
  of　women；　or　in　the　probabilities　of　things；　he　would　have　judged
  that　the　very　extravagance　of　the　action　demanded　a　deeper
  explanation　than　what　seemed　to　lie　on　the　surface。　　Yet；　although
  he　judged　Euphra　very　hardly　upon　those　grounds；　would　he　have
  judged　her　differently　had　he　actually　known　all？　　About　this　I　am
  left　to　conjecture　alone。
  But　the　effect　on　Hugh　was　different　from　what　the　ordinary　reader
  of　human　nature　might　anticipate。　　Instead　of　being　torn　in　pieces
  by　storms　of　jealousy；　all　the　summer　growths　of　his　love　were
  chilled　by　an　absolute　frost　of　death。　　A　kind　of　annihilation　sank
  upon　the　image　of　Euphra。　　There　had　been　no　such　Euphra。　　She　had
  been　but　a　creation　of　his　own　brain。　　It　was　not　so　much　that　he
  ceased　to　love；　as　that　the　being　belovednot　died；　butceased　to
  exist。　　There　were　moments　in　which　he　seemed　to　love　her　still　with
  a　wild　outcry　of　passion；　but　the　frenzy　soon　vanished　in　the
  selfish　feeling　of　his　own　loss。　　His　love　was　not　a　high　onenot
  such　as　thine；　my　Falconer。　　Thine　was　love　indeed；　though　its　tale
  is　too　good　to　tell；　simply　because　it　is　too　good　to　be　believed；
  and　we　do　men　a　wrong　sometimes　when　we　tell　them　more　than　they　can
  receive。
  Thought；　Speculation；　Suggestion；　crowded　upon　each　other；　till　at
  length　his　mind　sank　passive；　and　served　only　as　the　lists　in　which
  the　antagonist　thoughts　fought　a　confused　battle　without　herald　or
  umpire。
  But　it　is　amazing　to　think　how　soon　he　began　to　look　back　upon　his
  former　fascination　with　a　kind　of　wondering　unbelief。　　This　bespoke
  the　strength　of　Hugh's　ideal　sense；　as　well　as　the　weakness　of　his
  actual　love。　　He　could　hardly　even　recall　the　feelings　with　which；
  on　some　well…remembered　occasion；　he　had　regarded　her；　and　which
  then　it　had　seemed　impossible　he　should　ever　forget。　　Had　he
  discovered　the　cloven　foot　of　a　demon　under　those　trailing
  garmentshe　could　hardly　have　ceased　to　love　her　more　suddenly　or
  entirely。　　But　there　is　an　aching　that　is　worse　to　bear　than　pain。
  I　trust　my　reader　will　not　judge　very　hardly　of　Hugh；　because　of　the
  change　which　had　thus　suddenly　passed　upon　his　feelings。　　He　felt
  now　just　as　he　had　felt　on　waking　in　the　morning　and　finding　that　he
  had　been　in　love　with　a　dream…lady　all　the　night：　it　had　been　very
  delightful；　and　it　was　sad　that　it　was　all　gone；　and　could　come　back
  no　more。　　But　the　wonder　to　me　is；　not　that　some　loves　will　not
  stand　the　test　of　absence；　but　that；　their　nature　being　what　it　is；
  they　should　outlast　one　week　of　familiar　intercourse。
  He　mourned　bitterly　over　the　loss　of　those　feelings；　for　they　had
  been　precious　to　him。　　But　could　he　help　it？　　Indeed　he　could　not；
  for　his　love　had　been　fascination；　and　the　fascination　having
  ceased；　the　love　was　gone。
  I　believe　some　of　my　readers　will　not　need　this　apology　for　Hugh；
  but　will　rather　admire　the　facility　with　which　he　rose　above　a
  misplaced　passion；　and　dismissed　its　object。　　So　do　not　I。　It　came
  of　his　having　never　loved。　　Had　he　really　loved　Euphra；　herself；　her
  own　self；　the　living　woman　who　looked　at　him　out　of　those　eyes；　out
  of　that　face；　such　pity　would　have　blended　with　the　love　as　would
  have　made　it　greater；　and　permitted　no　indignation　to　overwhelm　it。
  As　it　was；　he　was　utterly　passive　and　helpless　in　the　matter。　　The
  fault　lay　in　the　original　weakness　that　submitted　to　be　so
  fascinated；　that　gave　in　to　it；　notwithstanding　the　vague
  expostulations　of　his　better　nature；　and　the　consciousness　that　he
  was　neglecting　his　duty　to　Harry；　in　order　to　please　Euphra　and
  enjoy　her　society。　　Had　he　persisted　in　doing　his　duty；　it　would　at
  least　have　kept　his　mind　more　healthy；　lessened　the　absorption　of
  his　passion；　and　given　him　opportunities　of　reflection；　and　moments
  of　true　perception　as　to　what　he　was　about。　　But　now　the　spell　was
  broken　at　once；　and　the　poor　girl　had　lost　a　worshipper。　　The　golden
  image　with　the　feet　of　clay　might　arise　in　a　prophet's　dream；　but　it
  could　never　abide　in　such　a　lover's。　　Her　glance　was　powerless　now。
  Alas；　for　the　withering　of　such　a　dream！　　Perhaps　she　deserved
  nothing　else；　but　our　deserts；　when　we　get　them；　are　sad　enough
  sometimes。
  All　that　day　he　walked　as　in　a　dream　of　loss。　　As　for　the　person
  whom　he　had　used　to　call　Euphra；　she　was　removed　to　a　vast　distance
  from　him。　　An　absolutely　impassable　gulf　lay　between　them。
  She　sent　for　him。　　He　went　to　her　filled　with　a　sense　of
  insensibility。　　She　was　much　worse；　and　suffering　great　pain。　　Hugh
  saw　at　once　that　she　knew　that　all　was　over　between　them；　and　that
  he　had　seen　her　pass　his　door；　or　had　been　in　her　room；　for　he　had
  left　her　door　a　little　open；　and　she　had　left　it　shut。　　One
  pathetic；　most　pitiful　glance　of　deprecating　entreaty　she　fixed　upon
  him；　as　after　a　few　moments　of　speechless　waiting；　he　turned　to
  leave　the　roomwhich　would　have　remained　deathless　in　his　heart；
  but　that　he　interpreted　it　to　mean：　〃Don't　tell；〃　so　he　got　rid　of
  it　at　once　by　the　grant　of　its　supposed　request。　　She　made　no　effort
  to　detain　him。　　She　turned　her　face　away；　and；　hard…hearted；　he
  heard　her　sob；　not　as　if　her　heart　would　breakthat　is　littlebut
  like　an　immortal　woman　in　immortal　agony；　and　he　did　not　turn　to
  comfort　her。　　Perhaps　it　was　betterhow　could　he　comfort　her？　　Some
  kinds　of　comfortthe　only　kinds　which