of self-murder, that others in their turn then take up, borne from age to age on their willing but aching shoulders.  And here again, for the third time, in the course of five centuries, I have arrived at the summit of one of the hills which overlooks the city; and perhaps I bring again with me terror, desolation, and death.  And this unhappy city, intoxicated in a whirl of joys, and nocturnal revelries, knows nothing about it—­oh! it knows not that I am at its very gate.  But no! no! my presence will not be a source of fresh calamity to it.  The Lord, in His unsearchable wisdom, has brought me hither across France, making me avoid on my route all but the humblest villages, so that no increase of the funeral knell has, marked my journey.  And then, moreover, the spectre has left me—­that spectre, livid and green, with its deep bloodshot eyes.  When I touched the soil of France, its moist and icy hand abandoned mine—­it disappeared.  And yet I feel the atmosphere of death surrounding me still.  There is no cessation; the biting gusts of this sinister wind, which envelop me in their breath, seem by their envenomed breath to propagate the scourge.  Doubtless the anger of the Lord is appeased.  Maybe, my presence here is meant only as a threat, intending to bring those to their senses whom it ought to intimidate.  It must be so; for were it otherwise, it would, on the contrary, strike a loud-sounding blow of greater terror, casting at once dread and death into the very heart of the country, into the bosom of this immense city.  Oh, no! no! the Lord will have mercy; He will not condemn me to this new affliction.  Alas! in this city my brethren are more numerous and more wretched than in any other.  And must I bring death to them?  No! the Lord will have mercy; for, alas! the seven descendants of my sister are at last all united in this city.  And must I bring death to them?  Death! instead of that immediate assistance they stand so much in need of?  For that woman who, like myself, wanders from one end of the world into the other, has gone now on her everlasting journey, after having confounded their enemies’ plots.  In vain did she foretell that great evils still threatened those who are akin to me through my sister’s blood.  The unseen hand by which I am led, drives that woman away from me, even as though it were a whirlwind that swept her on.  In vain she entreated and implored at the moment she was leaving those who are so dear to me.—­At least, 0 Lord, permit me to stay until I shall have finished my task!  Onward!  A few days, for mercy’s sake, only a few days!  Onward!  I leave these whom I am protecting on the very brink of an abyss!  Onward!  Onward!!  And the wandering star is launched afresh on its perpetual course.  But her voice traversed through space, calling me to the assistance of my own!  When her voice reached me I felt that the offspring of my sister were still exposed to fearful dangers:  those dangers are still increasing.  Oh, say, say, Lord! shall the descendants of my sister