- ful Zastrozzi, expect the earnest of the happiness which
you wish to enjoy for ever."
Thus saying, Zastrozzi departed, and Matilda retraced her steps to her castella.
Amid the delight, the ecstasy, for which her soul had so long panted—amid the embraces of him whom she had fondly supposed alone to constitute all terrestrial happiness, racking, corroding thoughts possessed Matilda's bosom.
Deeply musing on schemes of future delight—delight established by the gratification of most diabolical revenge, her eyes fixed upon the ground, heedless what path she pursued, Matilda advanced along the forest.
A voice aroused her from her reverie—it was Verezzi's—the well-known, the tenderly-adored tone, struck upon her senses forcibly; she started, and hastening towards him, soon allayed those fears which her absence had excited in the fond heart of her spouse, and on which account he had anxiously quitted the castella to search for her.
Joy, rapturous, ecstatic happiness, untainted by fear, unpolluted by reflection, reigned for six days in Matilda's bosom.
Five days passed away, the sixth arrived, and, when the evening came, Matilda, with eager and impatient steps, sought the forest.
The evening was gloomy, dense vapours overspread the air; the wind, low and hollow, sighed mournfully in the gigantic pine-trees, and whispered in low hissings among the withered shrubs which grew on the rocky prominences.
Matilda waited impatiently for the arrival of Zastrozzi. At last his towering form emerged from an interstice in the rocks.
He advanced towards her.
"Success! Victory! my Matilda," exclaimed Zastrozzi, in an accent of exultation—"Julia is"
