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When I quitted Geneva my first labour was to gain some clue by

which I might trace the steps of my fiendish enemy. But my plan

was unsettled, and I wandered many hours round the confines of

the town, uncertain what path I should pursue. As night

approached I found myself at the entrance of the cemetery where

William, Elizabeth, and my father reposed. I entered it and

approached the tomb which marked their graves. Everything was

silent except the leaves of the trees, which were gently agitated

by the wind; the night was nearly dark, and the scene would have

been solemn and affecting even to an uninterested observer. The

spirits of the departed seemed to flit around and to cast a

shadow, which was felt but not seen, around the head of the

mourner.