slower　articulation。　〃Help　me　to　speak　it。〃
  The　doctor　administered　a　stimulant；　and　signed　to　Mr。　Neal　to
  give　him　time。　After　a　little　delay；　the　flame　of　the　sinking
  spirit　leaped　up　in　his　eyes　once　more。　Resolutely　struggling
  with　his　failing　speech；　he　summoned　the　Scotchman　to　take　the
  pen；　and　pronounced　the　closing　sentences　of　the　narrative；　as
  his　memory　gave　them　back　to　him；　one　by　one；　in　these　words：
  〃Despise　my　dying　conviction　if　you　will；　but　grant　me；　I
  solemnly　implore　you；　one　last　request。　My　son！　the　only　hope　I
  have　left　for　you　hangs　on　a　great　doubtthe　doubt　whether　we
  are；　or　are　not；　the　masters　of　our　own　destinies。　It　may　be　that
  mortal　free…will　can　conquer　mortal　fate；　and　that　going；　as　we
  all　do；　inevitably　to　death；　we　go　inevitably　to　nothing　that　is
  before　death。　If　this　be　so；　indeed；　respectthough　you　respect
  nothing　elsethe　warning　which　I　give　you　from　my　grave。　Never；
  to　your　dying　day；　let　any　living　soul　approach　you　who　is
  associated；　directly　or　indirectly；　with　the　crime　which　your
  father　has　committed。　Avoid　the　widow　of　the　man　I　killedif　the
  widow　still　lives。　Avoid　the　maid　whose　wicked　hand　smoothed　the
  way　to　the　marriageif　the　maid　is　still　in　her　service。　And
  more　than　all；　avoid　the　man　who　bears　the　same　name　as　your　own。
  Offend　your　best　benefactor；　if　that　benefactor's　influence　has
  connected　you　one　with　the　other。　Desert　the　woman　who　loves　you；
  if　that　woman　is　a　link　between　you　and　him。　Hide　yourself　from
  him　under　an　assumed　name。　Put　the　mountains　and　the　seas　between
  you；　be　ungrateful；　be　unforgiving；　be　all　that　is　most　repellent
  to　your　own　gentler　nature；　rather　than　live　under　the　same　roof；
  and　breathe　the　same　air；　with　that　man。　Never　let　the　two　Allan
  Armadales　meet　in　this　world：　never；　never；　never！
  〃There　lies　the　way　by　which　you　may　escapeif　any　way　there　be。
  Take　it；　if　you　prize　your　own　innocence　and　your　own　happiness；
  through　all　your　life　to　come！
  〃I　have　done。　If　I　could　have　trusted　any　weaker　influence　than
  the　influence　of　this　confession　to　incline　you　to　my　will；　I
  would　have　spared　you　the　disclosure　which　these　pages　contain。
  You　are　lying　on　my　breast；　sleeping　the　innocent　sleep　of　a
  child；　while　a　stranger's　hand　writes　these　words　for　you　as　they
  fall　from　my　lips。　Think　what　the　strength　of　my　conviction　must
  be；　when　I　can　find　the　courage；　on　my　death…bed；　to　darken　all
  your　young　life　at　its　outset　with　the　shadow　of　your　father's
  crime。　Think；　and　be　warned。　Think；　and　forgive　me　if　you　can。〃
  There　it　ended。　Those　were　the　father's　last　words　to　the　son。
  Inexorably　faithful　to　his　forced　duty；　Mr。　Neal　laid　aside　the
  pen；　and　read　over　aloud　the　lines　he　had　just　written。　〃Is　there
  more　to　add？〃　he　asked；　with　his　pitilessly　steady　voice。　There
  was　no　more　to　add。
  Mr。　Neal　folded　the　manuscript；　inclosed　it　in　a　sheet　of　paper；
  and　sealed　it　with　Mr。　Armadale's　own　seal。　〃The　address？〃　he
  said；　with　his　merciless　business　formality。　〃To　Allan　Armadale；
  junior；〃　he　wrote；　as　the　words　were　dictated　from　the　bed。　〃Care
  of　Godfrey　Hammick；　Esq。；　Offices　of　Messrs。　Hammick　and　Ridge；
  Lincoln's　Inn　Fields；　London。〃　Having　written　the　address；　he
  waited；　and　considered　for　a　moment。　〃Is　your　executor　to　open
  this？〃　he　asked。
  〃No！　he　is　to　give　it　to　my　son　when　my　son　is　of　an　age　to
  understand　it。〃
  〃In　that　case；〃　pursued　Mr。　Neal；　with　all　his　wits　in
  remorseless　working　order；　〃I　will　add　a　dated　note　to　the
  address；　repeating　your　own　words　as　you　have　just　spoken　them；
  and　explaining　the　circumstances　under　which　my　handwriting
  appears　on　the　document。〃　He　wrote　the　note　in　the　briefest　and
  plainest　terms；　read　it　over　aloud　as　he　had　read　over　what　went
  before；　signed　his　name　and　address　at　the　end；　and　made　the
  doctor　sign　next；　as　witness　of　the　proceedings；　and　as　medical
  evidence　of　the　condition　in　which　Mr。　Armadale　then　lay。　This
  done；　he　placed　the　letter　in　a　second　inclosure；　sealed　it　as
  before；　and　directed　it　to　Mr。　Hammick；　with　the　superscription
  of　〃private〃　added　to　the　address。　〃Do　you　insist　on　my　posting
  this？〃　he　asked；　rising　with　the　letter　in　his　hand。
  〃Give　him　time　to　think；〃　said　the　doctor。　〃For　the　child's　sake；
  give　him　time　to　think！　A　minute　may　change　him。〃
  〃I　will　give　him　five　minutes；〃　answered　Mr。　Neal；　placing　his
  watch　on　the　table；　implacably　just　to　the　very　last。
  They　waited；　both　looking　attentively　at　Mr。　Armadale。　The　signs
  of　change　which　had　appeared　in　him　already　were　multiplying
  fast。　The　movement　which　continued　mental　agitation　had
  communicated　to　the　muscles　of　his　face　was　beginning；　under　the
  same　dangerous　influence；　to　spread　downward。　His　once　helpless
  hands　lay　still　no　longer；　they　struggled　pitiably　on　the
  bedclothes。　At　sight　of　that　warning　token；　the　doctor　turned
  with　a　gesture　of　alarm；　and　beckoned　Mr。　Neal　to　come　nearer。
  〃Put　the　question　at　once；〃　he　said；　〃if　you　let　the　five　minutes
  pass；　you　may　be　too　late。〃
  Mr。　Neal　approached　the　bed。　He；　too；　noticed　the　movement　of　the
  hands。　〃Is　that　a　bad　sign？〃　he　asked。
  The　doctor　bent　his　head　gravely。　〃Put　your　question　at　once；〃　he
  repeated；　〃or　you　may　be　too　late。〃
  Mr。　Neal　held　the　letter　before　the　eyes　of　the　dying　man　〃Do　you
  know　what　this　is？〃
  〃My　letter。〃
  〃Do　you　insist　on　my　posting　it？〃
  He　mastered　his　failing　speech　for　the　last　time；　and　gave　the
  answer：　〃Yes！〃
  Mr。　Neal　moved　to　the　door；　with　the　letter　in　his　hand。　The
  German　followed　him　a　few　steps；　opened　his　lips　to　plead　for　a
  longer　delay；　met　the　Scotchman's　inexorable　eye；　and　drew　back
  again　in　silence。　The　door　closed　and　parted　them；　without　a　word
  having　passed　on　either　side。
  The　doctor　went　back　to　the　bed　and　whispered　to　the　sinking　man：
  〃Let　me　call　him　back；　there　is　time　to　stop　him　yet！〃　It　was
  useless。　No　answer　came；　nothing　showed　that　he　heeded；　or　even
  heard。　His　eyes　wandered　from　the　child；　rested　for　a　moment　on
  his　own　struggling　hand；　and　looked　up　entreatingly　in　the
  compassionate　face　that　bent　over　him。　The　doctor　lifted　the
  hand；　paused；　followed　the　father's　longing　eyes　back　to　the
  child；　and；　interpreting　his　last　wish；　moved　the　hand　gently
  toward　the　boy's　head。　The　hand　touched　it；　and　trembled
  violently。　In　another　instant　the　trembling　seized　on　the　arm；
  and　spread　over　the　whole　upper　part　of　the　body。　The　face　turned
  from　pale　to　red；　from　red　to　purple；　from　purple　to　pale　again。
  Then　the　toiling　hands　lay　still；　and　the　shifting　color　changed
  no　more。
  The　window　of　the　next　room　was　open；　when　the　doctor　entered　it
  from　the　death　chamber；　with　the　child　in
  his　arms。　He　looked　out　as　he　passed　by；　and　saw　Mr。　Neal　in　the
  street　below；　slowly　returning　to　the　inn。
  〃Where　is　the　letter？〃　he　asked。
  Three　words　sufficed　for　the　Scotchman's　answer。
  〃In　the　post。〃
  THE　END　OF　THE　PROLOGUE。
  THE　STORY。
  _BOOK　THE　FIRST。_
  CHAPTER　I。
  THE　MYSTERY　OF　OZIAS　MIDWINTER。
  ON　a　warm　May　night；　in　the　year　eighteen　hundred　and　fifty…one；
  the　Reverend　Decimus　Brockat　that　time　a　visitor　to　the　Isle　of
  Manretired　to　his　bedroom　at　Castletown；　with　a　serious
  personal　responsibility　in　close　pursuit　of　him；　and　with　no
  distinct　idea　of　the　means　by　which　he　might　relieve　himself　from
  the　pressure　of　his　present　circumstances。
  The　clergyman　had　reached　that　mature　period　of　human　life　at
  which　a　sensible　man　learns　to　decline　（as　often　as　his　temper
  will　let　him）　all　useless　conflict　with　the　tyranny　of　his　own
  troubles。　Abandoning　any　further　effort　to　reach　a　decision　in
  the　emergency　that　now　beset　him；　Mr。　Brock　sat　down　placidly　in
  his　shirt　sleeves　on　the　side　of　his　bed；　and　applied　his　mind　to
  consider　next　whether　the　emergency　itself　was　as　serious　as　he
  had　hitherto　been　inclined　to　think　it。　Following　this　new　way
  out　of　his　perplexities；　Mr。　Brock　found　himself　unexpectedly
  traveling　to　the　end　in　view　by　the　least　inspiriting　of　all
  human　journeysa　journey　through　the　past　years　of　his　own　life。
  One　by　one　the　events　of　those　yearsall　connected　with　the　same
  little　group　of　characters；　and　all　more　or　less　answerable　for
  the　anxiety　which　was　now　intruding　itself　between　the　clergyman
  and　his　night's　restrose；　in　progressive　series；　on　Mr。　Brock's
  memory。　The　first　of　the　series　took　him　back；　through　a　period
  of　fourteen　years；　to　his　own　rectory　on　the　Somersetshire　shores
  of　the　Bristol　Channel；　and　closeted　him　at　a　private　interview
  with　a　lady　who　had　paid　him　a　visit　in　the　character　of　a　total
  stranger　to　the　parson　and　the　place。
  The　lady's　complexion　was　fair；　the　lady's　figure　was　well
  preserved；　she　was　still　a　young　woman；　and　she　looked　even
  younger　than　her　age。　There　was　a　shade　of　melancholy　in　her
  expression；　and　an　undertone　of　suffering　in　her　voiceenough；
  in　each　case；　to　indicate　that　she　had　known　trouble；　but　not
  enough　to　obtrude　that　trouble　on　the　notice　of　others。　She
  brought　with　her　a　fine；　fair…haired　boy　of　eight　years　old；　whom
  she　presented　as　her　son；　and　who　was　sent　out　of　the　way；　at　the
  beginning　of　the　interview；　to　amuse　himself　in　the　rectory
  gard