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Would you believe another appearance of the Marquis before Adeline can resume reading? This time it's to propose something closer to wedded matrimony: " 'I am sensible,' said the Marquis at length, 'that the conduct to which the ardour of my passion lately betrayed me, has injured me in your opinion, and that you will not easily restore me to your esteem; but, I trust, the offer which I now make you, both of my title and my fortune, will sufficiently prove the sincerity of my attachment, and atone for the transgression which love only prompted.' " Yeah whatever, says Adeline, who like David Larsen wants only to get back in bed with that manuscript, and maybe a longer candle this time. Oddly, the manuscript starts up again without naming the "base employer" of its author's kidnappers. " 'The ruffians unbound me from my horse, and led me through the hall up the spiral staircase of the abbey... Having passed some chambers, they stopped in one hung with old tapestry. I inquired why we did not go on, and was told, I should soon know.

" 'At that moment, I expected to see the instrument of death uplifted, and silently recommended myself to God. But death was not then designed for me; they raised the arras, and discovered a door, which they then opened. Seizing my arms, they led me through a suite of dismal chambers beyond. Having reached the farthest of these, they again stopped: the horrid gloom of the place seemed congenial to murder, and inspired deadly thoughts. Again I looked round for the instrument of destruction, and again I was respited. I supplicated to know what was designed me; it was now unnecessary to ask who was the author of the design. They were silent to my question, but at length told me, this chamber was my prison. Having said this, and set down a jug of water, they left the room, and I heard the room barred upon me.

" 'O sound of despair! O moment of unutterable anguish! The pang of death itself is, surely, not superior to that I then suffered. Shut out from day, from friends, from life--for such I must foretell it--in the prime of my years, in the height of my transgressions, and left to imagine horrors more terrible than any, which certainty could give--I sink beneath the'---"

"Here several pages of the manuscript were decayed with damp and totally illegible." And with that I've got to run.
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