Can you guess how I spent that night ?--I stole a pickaxe from a mason's shed, and all alone and unseen, under the frosty heavens, I dug the fresh mould from the grave; I lifted the coffin, I wrenched the lid, I saw her again--again! Decay had not touched her.

She was always pale in life! I could have sworn she lived! It was a blessed thing to see her once more, and all alone too! But then, at dawn, to give her back to the earth,--to close the lid, to throw down the mould, to hear the pebbles rattle on the coffin: that was dreadful! Signor, I never knew before, and I don't wish to think now, how valuable a thing human life is.

At sunrise I was again a wanderer; but now that Clara was gone, my scruples vanished, and again I was at war with my betters.

I contrived at last, at O--, to get taken on board a vessel bound to Leghorn, working out my passage.

From Leghorn I went to Rome, and stationed myself at the door of the cardinal's palace.