1829.] the late Mr. Hermann Alsager. 15S 



nate friend, struggling at a considerable depth below the surface, his hands 

 spread out, his legs wide apart, his head bent back upon his shoulders, and 

 his whole appearance indicating the extreme agony of convulsion and suffo- 

 cation. TAvice he rose, and twice I made vain efforts to rescue him ; but 

 when, for the third and last time, he ascended to the surface of the 

 water, the spirit of death was on him : he struggled — he gasped for 

 breath; his eye was glazed, his lip blue, his mouth distorted; he made 

 one last feeble attempt to clutch the oar which I had thrown out to assist 

 him ; and then, casting on me a look which rivers of tears — and God 

 knows I have shed them since ! — will never wash away from my remem- 

 brance, sank slowly, and without a struggle, before my face. I plunged 

 after him : it was vain — he was gone from life for ever ! The very 

 heavens conspired together for his destruction ; for, just as he sank for 

 the second and last time, a dark, sullen, envious cloud crept over the 

 moon ; and the waters, thus secured of their prey, gathered darkly, 

 slowly, and without an effort, above his head. How I myself subse- 

 quently contrived to reach the shore, I know not ; for soine hours my 

 recollection, my very life itself, was a blank ; and the first thing that 

 recalled me to my senses, was a huiTied visit from Hortense's favourite 

 female domestic, with a request that I would instantly step up to her 

 mistress, who was panting with impatience to see me. 



It was a fearful trial ; but I felt that it must be endured, and went 

 without a moment's hesitation. As I reached the cottage, Hortense flew 

 herself to the door to let me in. 



" Where is Herwaldsen ?" she exclaimed ; — " speak, in mercy speak ! 

 —he has been absent all night." 



She ceased, and life seemed depending on the answer she should 

 receive. 



" Compose yourself, Hortense," I replied, " you are too agitated — 

 too terrified — too — — " 



" IMan, — man ! this suspense is torture : I cannot, I will not bear it. 

 Speak at once, or kill me." 



" Hortense," I resumed — and the tears, in spite of myself, flowed fast 

 down my cheeks — " your husband is " 



" Dead >" 



" Even so." 



She heard no more. Her eye glared wildly ; the blood sprung to her 

 brow, knotting the dark veins there till they seemed in act to burst ; 

 and, with a shrill yell— half-shriek, half-laugh— she dropped senseless 

 at my feet. 



In about an hour, by prompt medical aid, animation was restored ; 

 but reason was fled for ever. Madness had at once succeeded insensi- 

 bihty — a deep, determined madness — which neither the kind voices of 

 friends, nor the adroitest skill of science, had power to soften or remove. 

 For three days and nights, Hortense continued in this state — rejecting 

 all aid— refusing all food— and shrinking with a sort of instinctive loath- 

 ing whenever any one approached her bed. Meanwhile, all was done 

 that might possibly assuage her delirium. INIusic was tried—Italian 

 spoken— the names of her father, her mother, her husband, whispered 

 in her ear, in the hope that such sounds might strike upon her brain, 

 and so bring back some little fragment, however broken or imperfect, 

 of recollection ; but all was vain : the very utmost we could do was to 

 draw forth a faint, low, idiot laugh, or a fearful burst of phrenzy. 



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