Lenderman's adventures among the spiritualists and free-lovers; . n avenging spirit whispersto its doomed-victim, She is dead! You have mur-deredher?! You lie! shouted Guysot, jumping to his feet;you lie! you cursed hag, he shouted, springing ather with the ferocity of a tiger on its prey. She fell back, and with a blow I felled him to thefloor. He slowly rose and staggered to a chair. It is just! It is just! I deserve it! he exclaimed ;I am a murderer. Oh, my God! have mercy on me !I see it, my horrid depravity! Forgive me, Oh myGod! forgive me! No, I can not be forgiven—my sinis too great. D
Lenderman's adventures among the spiritualists and free-lovers; . n avenging spirit whispersto its doomed-victim, She is dead! You have mur-deredher?! You lie! shouted Guysot, jumping to his feet;you lie! you cursed hag, he shouted, springing ather with the ferocity of a tiger on its prey. She fell back, and with a blow I felled him to thefloor. He slowly rose and staggered to a chair. It is just! It is just! I deserve it! he exclaimed ;I am a murderer. Oh, my God! have mercy on me !I see it, my horrid depravity! Forgive me, Oh myGod! forgive me! No, I can not be forgiven—my sinis too great. Dead ! dead ! It can not be—she is notdead! and he started up again, his eyes gleaming ademoniac stare, you deceive me,—Emily is not dead!Tell me all, oh! quickly, and remove this fearful lovely, that pure, that heavenly being! it can notbe that she is dead! that I never can ask her forgiveness!Speak, why do you taunt me with this silence ? Sir, I answered, I saw that ring drawn from thefinger of a corpse—a beautiful female corpse—taken. Tiie Spiritualists and Free-Lovers. 103 from the Mississippi river. She had, also, in herbosom a locket containing a likeness exactly resemblingyourself. I assisted in holding an inquest over herand her unborn child. They now lie in the graveyardof . Guysot uttered not a word, but stood transfixed to thespot, motionless, each muscle rigid as if its fibers hadbeen of iron ; a living picture of the agonies of remorse,terrible and unmitigated as the fires of eternal room was still as the grave. I could hear the lowinspirations of his breast, and the very palpitations ofhis heart as it beat at irregular intervals. With painfuleffort he moved his head; this exertion seemed to breakthe paralysis that benumbed his system. He pressedhis forehead and feebly groaned, My brain ! my brain !Oh, it is on fire!—help! He staggered and wouldhave fallen, but I caught him and laid his relaxed bodyon a lounge. Opening his eyes
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