The film of passion had dropped alike from mental and bodily vision.

He beheld his irritated feelings in their true light, and knew himself in thought a murderer.

He would have sacrificed life itself, could he but have recalled the words of insult offered to one so noble; not for the danger to himself from their threatening nature, but for the injurious injustice done to the man from whom he had received a hundred acts of little unobtrusive kindnesses, and whom he had once revered as the model of every thing virtuous and noble--services which Morales had rendered him, felt gratefully perhaps at the time, but forgotten in the absorption of thought or press of occupation during his sojourn in Sicily, now rushed back upon him, marking him ingrate as well as dishonored.

All that had happened he regarded as Divine judgment on an unspoken, unacted, but not the less encouraged sin.

The fact that his sword had done the deed, convinced him that his destruction had been connived at, as well as that of Morales.