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combated？
When I reflected on the hereditary taint in his mental
organization； on that first childish fright of Stephen Monkton
from which he had never recovered； on the perilously…secluded
life that he had led at the Abbey； and on his firm persuasion of
the reality of the apparition by which he believed himself to be
constantly followed； I confess I despaired of shaking his
superstitious faith in every word and line of the old family
prophecy。 If the series of striking coincidences which appeared
to attest its truth had made a strong and lasting impression on
_me_ （and this was assuredly the case）； how could I wonder that
they had produced the effect of absolute conviction on _his_
mind； constituted as it was？ If I argued with him； and he
answered me； how could I rejoin？ If he said； 〃The prophecy points
at the last of the family： _I_ am the last of the family。 The
prophecy mentions an empty place in Wincot vault； there is such
an empty place there at this moment。 On the faith of the prophecy
I told you that Stephen Monkton's body was unburied； and you
found that it was unburied〃if he said this； what use would it
be for me to reply； 〃These are only strange coincidences after
all？〃
The more I thought of the task that lay before me； if he
recovered； the more I felt inclined to despond。 The oftener the
English physician who attended on him said to me； 〃He may get the
better of the fever； but he has a fixed idea； which never leaves
him night or day； which has unsettled his reason； and which will
end in killing him； unless you or some of his friends can remove
it〃the oftener I heard this； the more acutely I felt my own
powerlessness； the more I shrank from every idea that was
connected with the hopeless future。
I had only expected to receive my answer from Wincot in the shape
of a letter。 It was consequently a great surprise； as well as a
great relief； to be informed one day that two gentlemen wished to
speak with me； and to find that of these two gentlemen the first
was the old priest； and the second a male relative of Mrs。
Elmslie。
Just before their arrival the fever symptoms had disappeared； and
Alfred had been pronounced out of danger。 Both the priest and his
companion were eager to know when the sufferer would be strong
enough to travel。 The y had come to Cartagena expressly to take
him home with them； and felt far more hopeful than I did of the
restorative effects of his native air。 After all the questions
connected with the first important point of the journey to
England had been asked and answered； I ventured to make some
inquiries after Miss Elmslie。 Her relative informed me that she
was suffering both in body and in mind from excess of anxiety on
Alfred's account。 They had been obliged to deceive her as to the
dangerous nature of his illness in order to deter her from
accompanying the priest and her relation on their mission to
Spain。
Slowly and imperfectly； as the weeks wore on； Alfred regained
something of his former physical strength； but no alteration
appeared in his illness as it affected his mind。
From the very first day of his advance toward recovery； it had
been discovered that the brain fever had exercised the strangest
influence over his faculties of memory。 All recollection of
recent events was gone from him。 Everything connected with
Naples； with me； with his journey to Italy； had dropped in some
mysterious manner entirely out of his remembrance。 So completely
had all late circumstances passed from his memory that； though he
recognized the old priest and his own servant easily on the first
days of his convalescence； he never recognized me； but regarded
me with such a wistful； doubting expression； that I felt
inexpressibly pained when I approached his bedside。 All his
questions were about Miss Elmslie and Wincot Abbey； and all his
talk referred to the period when his father was yet alive。
The doctors augured good rather than ill from this loss of memory
of recent incidents； saying that it would turn out to be
temporary； and that it answered the first great healing purpose
of keeping his mind at ease。 I tried to believe themtried to
feel as sanguine； when the day came for his departure； as the old
friends felt who were taking him home。 But the effort was too
much for me。 A foreboding that I should never see him again
oppressed my heart； and the tears came into my eyes as I saw the
worn figure of my poor friend half helped； half lifted into the
traveling…carriage； and borne away gently on the road toward
home。
He had never recognized me； and the doctors had begged that I
would give him； for some time to come； as few opportunities as
possible of doing so。 But for this request I should have
accompanied him to England。 As it was； nothing better remained
for me to do than to change the scene； and recruit as I best
could my energies of body and mind； depressed of late by much
watching and anxiety。 The famous cities of Spain were not new to
me； but I visited them again and revived old impressions of the
Alhambra and Madrid。 Once or twice I thought of making a
pilgrimage to the East； but late events had sobered and altered
me。 That yearning； unsatisfied feeling which we call
〃homesickness〃 began to prey upon my heart； and I resolved to
return to England。
I went back by way of Paris； having settled with the priest that
he should write to me at my banker's there as soon as he could
after Alfred had returned to Wincot。 If I had gone to the East；
the letter would have been forwarded to me。 I wrote to prevent
this； and； on my arrival at Paris； stopped at the banker's before
I went to my hotel。
The moment the letter was put into my hands； the black border on
the envelope told me the worst。 He was dead。
There was but one consolationhe had died calmly； almost
happily； without once referring to those fatal chances which had
wrought the fulfillment of the ancient prophecy。 〃My beloved
pupil；〃 the old priest wrote； 〃seemed to rally a little the first
few days after his return； but he gained no real strength； and
soon suffered a slight relapse of fever。 After this he sank
gradually and gently day by day； and so departed from us on the
last dread journey。 Miss Elmslie （who knows that I am writing
this） desires me to express her deep and lasting gratitude for
all your kindness to Alfred。 She told me when we brought him back
that she had waited for him as his promised wife； and that she
would nurse him now as a wife should； and she never left him。 his
face was turned toward her； his hand was clasped in hers when he
died。 It will console you to know that he never mentioned events
at Naples； or the shipwreck that followed them； from the day of
his return to the day of his death。〃
Three days after reading the letter I was at Wincot； and heard
all the details of Alfred's last moments from the priest。 I felt
a shock which it would not be very easy for me to analyze or
explain when I heard that he had been buried； at his own desire；
in the fatal Abbey vault。
The priest took me down to see the placea grim； cold；
subterranean building； with a low roof； supported on heavy Saxon
arches。 Narrow niches； wi