earnestly, while her pale lips trembled with convulsive agony, "tell me,
and tell me truly, I beseech you, do you think he can be such a villain
as to marry another woman, and leave me to die with want and misery in
a strange land: tell me what you think; I can bear it very well; I
will not shrink from this heaviest stroke of fate; I have deserved my
afflictions, and I will endeavour to bear them as I ought."

"I fear," said Belcour, "he can be that villain."

"Perhaps," cried she, eagerly interrupting him, "perhaps he is married
already: come, let me know the worst," continued she with an affected
look of composure: "you need not be afraid, I shall not send the
fortunate lady a bowl of poison."

"Well then, my dear girl," said he, deceived by her appearance,
"they were married on Thursday, and yesterday morning they sailed for
Eustatia."

"Married--gone--say you?" cried she in a distracted accent, "what
without a last farewell, without one thought on my unhappy situation!
Oh Montraville, may God forgive your perfidy." She shrieked, and Belcour
sprang forward just in time to prevent her falling to the floor.

Alarming faintings now succeeded each other, and she was conveyed to
her bed, from whence she earnestly prayed she might never more arise.
Belcour staid with her that night, and in the morning found her in a
high fever. The fits she had been seized with had greatly terrified him;
and confined as she now was to a bed of sickness, she was no longer an
object of desire: it is true for several days he went constantly to see
her, but her pale, emaciated appearance disgusted him: his visits became