Wieland; Or, The Transformation: An American Tale

a, the Bohemian hero, were woven into a dramatic series and connection. According to German custom, it was minute and diffuse, and dictated by an adventurous and lawless fancy. It was a chain of audac

ce. The language was familiar to all of us but Carwin

een destitute of consolation. His late deportment had given spring to my hopes. Was not the hour at hand, which should render me the happiest of human creatures? He suspected that I looked with favorable eyes upon Carwin. Hence arose disquietudes, which he struggled in

own; but he must be convinced that it has not been given to another; he must be supplied with space whereon to build a doubt as to the true stat

oon will rise at eleven, and at that hour, we shall wind along this bank. Possibly that hour may decide my fate. If suitable encouragement be given, Pleyel will reveal his soul to me; and I, ere I reach this threshold, will be made the happiest of beings. And is t

ords and looks superfluous? Are not motion and touch sufficient to impart feelings such as mine? Has he not eyed me at moments, when the pres

near approach. An interview that must thus terminate, is surely to be wished for b

impulses of shame are gone. My scruples were preposterous and criminal. They are bred in all hearts, by a perverse and vicious education, and they would still have maintained their

ht was at once too rapid and too slow; my sensations were of an excruciating kind; I could taste no food

pleasures of this rehearsal. He was to divide the task with my brother, and, in tasks like these, he always engaged with peculiar zeal. His elocu

wn to fail upon even more trivial occasions. Not less impossible was it, that the scheme had lost its attractions, and t

circumstances demonstrated that such misapprehension was impossible; for he had himself proposed this day, and this hour. This day, his attention would not otherwise be occupied; but to-morrow, an indispensible engagement was foreseen, by whi

Every signal of his coming proved fallacious, and our hopes were at length dismissed. His absence affected my friends in no insupportable degree. They should be obliged, they said, to defer this undertaking till the morrow; and, perhaps, t

ent to my reproaches, without interruption or restraint. My heart was ready to burst with indignation and grief. Pleyel was not the only object of my keen but

ming? Blind and infatuated man! I exclaimed. Thou sportest with happiness. The good that is offered thee, thou h

ound on which I had built the persuasion that Pleyel was not unimpressed in my favor, appeared

d, to my own house. I retired early to my chamber, without designing t

us to the commission of injustice. What right had I to expect his attendance? Had I not demeaned myself like one indifferent to his happiness, and as having bestowed my regards upon another? His absence might be prompted by the love which I considered his absence as a

thought shewed me the rashness of this scheme, and I wondered by what infirmity of mind I could be betrayed into a momentary approbation of it. I saw with the utmost clear

econd disappointment endured by the same persons, and produced by his failure. Might it not originate in the same cause? Had he not designed to cross the river that morning to make some necessary purchases in Jersey? He had preconcerted to return to his own house to dinner; but, perhaps, some disaster had befallen him. Experience had taught me the insecurity of a canoe, and that was the only kind of boat which Pleyel used: I was, likewise, actuated by an hereditary dread of water. These circumstances combined to

this imbecility; perhaps it was coeval with the inroad of a fatal passion; a passion that will never rank me in the number of its eulogists; it was alone sufficient to the exterminati

cted with his fate was preserved with the most scrupulous care. Among these was to be numbered a manuscript, containing memoirs of his own life. The narrative was by no means recommended by its eloquence; but neither did all its value flow from my relationship to the author. Its stile had an unaffected and picturesque

he kitchen. Thither I resolved forthwith to repair; but the light was of use merely to enable me to read the book. I knew the shelf and the spot where it stood. Whether I took down the book, or prepared th

in which, aided by the deathlike repose of nature, it brought to me the murmur of the water-fall. This was mingled with that solemn and enchanting sound, which a breeze produces among the leaves of pines. T

eing was concealed within, whose purposes were evil. I began to contend with those fears, when it occurred to me that I might, without impropriety, go for a lamp previously to opening the closet. I receded a few s

l places were alike accessible to this foe, or if his empire were restricted by local bounds, those bounds were utterly inscrutable by me. But had I not been told by some one in league with this enemy, that every place but the recess in the bank was exempt from danger? I returned to the closet, and once

more distinct. The breath which accompanied it did not fan my hair, yet did every circu

ion, in whose tone the whole soul seemed to be wrapped u

rned my face backward to examine the mysterious monitor. The moon-light streamed into

re, could he fail to have been visible? Which of my senses was the prey of a fatal illusion? The shock which the sound produced was still felt in every part of my frame. The sound, ther

g. Like a tide, which suddenly mounts to an overwhelming height, and then gradually subsides, my confusion slowly gave place to order, and my tumults to a calm. I was able to deliberate and move. I resumed my feet, and advanced into the m

ese shadows seemed to be endowed with life, and to move. The apartment was open to the breeze, and the curtain was occasionally blown from its ordinary position. This motion was not unaccompanied with sound. I failed not to s

my brother beckoning me forward, the seizure of my arm, and the voice behind, were surely imaginary. That these incidents were fashioned in my sleep, is supported by the same indubitable evidence that compels me to believe myself awake at present; yet the words and the voice were the same. Then, by some inexplicable contrivance, I was aware of the dange

at evil was I now rescued? What minister or implement of ill was shut up in this recess? Who was it whose

f time are equally present, whom no contingency approaches, was the author of that spell which now seized upon me. Life was dear to me. No consideration was present that enjoined me to relinquish it. Sacr

r their hue to the similitude existing between these incidents and those of my dream. Surely it was phrenzy that dictated my deed. That a ruffian was hidden in the closet, was an idea, the genuine tendency of which was to urge me to flight. Such had been the effect formerly produced. Had my mind been simply occupied with this thought at present, no doubt, the s

ommonly moved upon its hinges, after being unfastened, without any effort of mine. This effort, however, was bestowed upon the

ind was accessible to no conjecture but one. The door was hindered from opening by human force. Surely, here was new cause for affright. This was confirmation proper to decide my co

o suggest or to sway my resolves. I reiterated my endeavours. I exerted all my force to overcom

distinctly as I am able, the cause of it. The frantic conception that my brother was within, that the resistance made to my design was exerted by him, had rooted itself in my mind.

pen," I exclaimed, in a tone that had less of fear than of grief in it.

was within, was shrouded in darkness. A few seconds passed without interruption of the silence. I knew not what to expect or to fear. My eyes would not stray from the recess. Presently, a deep sigh was heard. The qua

that presented itself was the last that I should desire to meet at an hour, and in a place like this. My wonder was stifled by my fears. Assassins had

his steps hither? I was alone. My habit suited the hour, and the place, and the warmth of the season. All succou

yed, the light was not strong enough to enable me to discover. He stood still; but his eyes wandered from one object to another. When these powerful organs wer

that which latel

as, he hast done you an important service. I need not ask you if it were the voice of a companion. That sound was beyond the co

one as well as the other. Yet, knowing these, you persisted. Audacious girl! but, perhaps, you confid

wice have you been saved by his accursed interposition. But for hi

y safety. It was with difficulty I stammered out an entreaty that he would instantly depart, or

pose, what injury is done? Your prejudices will call it by that name, but it merits it not. I was impelled by a sentiment that does you honor; a sentime

olly at the mercy of this being. Whichever way I turned my eyes, I saw no avenue by which I might escape. The resources of my personal strength, my ingenuity, and my eloquence, I estim

vice can never resist; that it was always in our power to obstruct, by his own death, the designs of an enemy who aimed at less than our life.

He had relinquished his design. These sources supplied me with slender consolation. There was no security but in his

fident that reason in this contest would be impotent. I must owe my safety to his own suggestions. Whatever purpose brought him hither, he

accomplishments? Who had a thousand times expatiated on the usefulness and beauty of virtue? Why should such a one be dreaded? If I could

he moon in her course than to injure you. The power that protects you would crumble my sinews, and reduce me to a heap of ashes in a moment, if I were to harbour a thought hostile to your safety. Thus are appearances at length solved. Little did I expect that they

d look. The tranquil solemnity that had lately possessed his countena

s are invincible. Your pardon will be extorted by fear, and not dictated by compassion. I must fly from you forever. He that co

follow him with my eyes, as the moon-light would have enabled me to do. Relieved by his absence, and exhausted by the conflict of my