A second time, untoward nature recalled me from the sleep of death.
I found myself stretched upon the bed. When I had power to look
up, I remembered only that I had cause to fear. My distempered
fancy fashioned to itself no distinguishable image. I threw a
languid glance round me: once more my eyes lighted upon Carwin.
He was seated on the floor, his back rested against the wall; his
knees were drawn up, and his face was buried in his hands. That
his station was at some distance, that his attitude was not
menacing, that his ominous visage was concealed, may account for my
now escaping a shock violent as those which were past. I withdrew
my eyes, but was not again deserted by my senses.
On perceiving that I had recovered my sensibility, he lifted his
head. This motion attracted my attention. His countenance was
mild, but sorrow and astonishment sat upon his features. I averted
my eyes and feebly exclaimed, "Oh, fly!--fly far and forever!--I
cannot behold you and live!"
He did not rise upon his feet, but clasped his hands, and said, in
a tone of deprecation, "I will fly.
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