Τηλε μειργουσι ψυχαι, ειδοωλα καμοντων.

HOMER

‘We have now to retrace a short period of our narrative to the night on which Don Francisco di Aliaga, the father of Isidora, ‘fortuned,’ as he termed it, to be among the company whose conversation had produced so extraordinary an effect on him.

‘He was journeying homewards, full of the contemplation of his wealth, — the certainty of having attained complete security against the evils that harass life, — and being able to set at defiance all external causes of infelicity. He felt like a man ‘at ease in his possessions,’ — and he felt also a grave and placid satisfaction at the thought of meeting a family who looked up to him with profound respect as the author of their fortunes, — of walking in his own house, amid bowing domestics and obsequious relatives, with the same slow authoritative step with which he paced the mart among wealthy merchants, and saw the wealthiest bow as he approached, — and when he had passed, point out the man of whose grave salute they were proud, and whisper, That is Aliaga the rich. — So thinking and feeling, as most prosperous men do, with an honest pride in their worldly success, — an exaggerated expectation of the homage of society, — (which they often find frustrated by its contempt), — and an ultimate reliance on the respect and devotion of their family whom they have enriched, making them ample amends for the slights they may be exposed to where their wealth is unknown, and their newly assumed consequence unappreciated, — or if appreciated, not valued:— So thinking and feeling, Don Francisco journeyed homeward.

‘At a wretched inn where he was compelled to halt, he found the accommodation so bad, and the heat of the weather so intolerable in the low, narrow, and unwindowed rooms, that he preferred taking his supper in the open air, on a stone bench at the door of the inn. We cannot say that he there imagined himself to be feasted with trout and white bread, like Don Quixote, — and still less that he fancied he was ministered unto by damsels of rank; — on the contrary, Don Francisco was digesting a sorry meal with wretched wine, with a perfect internal consciousness of the mediocrity of both, when he beheld a person ride by, who paused, and looked as if he was inclined to stop at the inn. (The interval of this pause was not long enough to permit Don Francisco to observe particularly the figure or face of the horseman, or indeed to recognize him on any future occasion of meeting; nor was there any thing remarkable in his appearance to invite or arrest observation.) He made a sign to the host, who approached him with a slow and unwilling pace, — appeared to answer all his inquiries with sturdy negatives, — and finally, as the stranger rode on, returned to his station, crossing himself with every mark of terror and deprecation.

‘There was something more in this than the ordinary surliness of a Spanish innkeeper. Don Francisco’s curiosity was excited, and he asked the innkeeper, whether the stranger had proposed to pass the night at the inn, as the weather seemed to threaten a storm? ‘I know not what he proposes,’ answered the man, ‘but this I know, that I would not suffer him to pass an hour under my roof for the revenues of Toledo. If there be a storm coming on, I care not — those who can raise them are the fittest to meet them!’

‘Don Francisco inquired the cause of these extraordinary expressions of aversion and terror, but the innkeeper shook his head and remained silent, with, as it were, the circumspective fear of one who is inclosed within a sorcerer’s circle, and dreads to pass its verge, lest he become the prey of the spirits who are waiting beyond it to take advantage of his transgression.

‘At last, at Don Francisco’s repeated instances, he said, ‘Your worship must needs be a stranger in this part of Spain not to have heard of Melmoth the wanderer.’ — ‘I have never heard of the name before,’ said Don Francisco; ‘and I conjure you, brother, to tell me what you know of this person, whose character, if I may judge by the manner in which you speak of him, must have in it something extraordinary.’ — ‘Senhor,’ answered the man, ‘were I to relate what is told of that person, I should not be able to close an eye to-night; or if I did, it would be to dream of things so horrible, that I had rather lie awake for ever. But, if I am not mistaken, there is in the house one who can gratify your curiosity — it is a gentleman who is preparing for the press a collection of facts relative to that person, and who has been, for............