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To be precipitate, was to be weak; so I thought even in that moment of fearful circumstances. I went back with all possible composure to the spot on which the crime had been committed. I examined the place carefully—took with my eye the bearing and distances of all the surrounding objects in their connexion with the immediate spot on which the deed had been done. In this examination, I found the pocket handkerchief of Emily, with her name written in Indian ink upon it. I carefully cut it into shreds, dividing each particular letter, with my pen-knife, and distributing the several pieces at slow intervals upon the winds. Where our feet together had pressed the sands, with a handful of brush, I obliterated the traces; and in the performance of this task, I drew off my own shoes, leaving, only, as I proceeded, the impression of a naked foot. While thus engaged, I perceived for the first time, that I had lost a rich, and large cameo, from my bosom. The loss gave me no little concern, for, apart from the fact of its being generally known for mine, the initials of my name were engraven upon the gold setting. How and where had it been lost. This was all important, and with indefatigable industry, I examined the grass and every spot of ground which I had gone over in the recent events. But in vain—it was not to be found, and with a feeling of uneasiness—not to describe my anxiety by a stronger epithet—I proceeded on my way home. The poverty of Emily’s family; the insulated position which they held in society; their inability to press an inquiry—were all so many safeguards and securities in my favor. There was some little stir, it is true—but I had so arranged matters that I passed unsuspected. The inquiry was confined to the particular part of the country in which she resided—a lonely and almost uninhabited region—and, but a distant rumor of her unaccountable disappearance reached our village—and there the connexion existing between us was almost entirely unknown. The family had but few claims upon society, and but little interest was excited by their loss. In a little while all inquiry ceased; and with a random and general conclusion that she had fallen into the river, the thought of Emily Andrews gradually passed away from the memories of those who had once known her. CHAPTER IX. The night came, appointed for my marriage with the beautiful and wealthy Constance Claiborne. Attended by William Harding, who, 28 MARTIN FABER Simms-MFaber final pages:Layout 1 4/10/08 11:50 AM Page 28 strange to say, in spite of the manifest and radical differences of character existing between us, was yet my principal companion, I was punctual to the hour of appointment. Every preparation had been made by which the ceremony should be attractive. A large company had been assembled. Lights in profusion—rich dresses—gayly crowded and decorated apartments, and the most various music, indicated the spirit of joy and perfect harmony with which our mutual families contemplated the union. I have already said the bride was beautiful. Words cannot convey an idea of her beauty. She was emphatically a thing of light and love— “Which seen, becomes a part of sight.” In grace, one knew not with what, save herself, to institute a comparison . In expression, there were volumes of romantic, and interesting poetry, embodied in each feature of her face; and the steel of my affections , stern as it was, wherever she turned, even as the dutiful needle to the pole, turned intuitively along with her. Such was the maiden,—so much after the make and mould of heaven, whom a cruel destiny was about to link with one formed in spirit after the fashion of hell. The ceremony was begun. We stood up with linked hands at the altar. The priest went on with his formula. The bride’s hand trembled in mine, and her eyes were commercing only with the richly carpeted floor. I was about to answer the question which should have made us one, when a cold wind seemed to penetrate my body. My bones were numbed, and a freezing chill went through my whole system. My tongue refused its office, and, instinctively, as it were, bending to the opposite quarter of the apartment, my eyes fell upon a guest whom none had invited. There...

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