1 My father and Ernest yet lived, but the former sunk under the tidings that I bore.
2 I tried to calm Ernest; I enquired more minutely concerning my father, and here I named my cousin.
3 He talked of Geneva, which I should soon visit, of Elizabeth and Ernest; but these words only drew deep groans from me.
4 My uncle is not pleased with the idea of a military career in a distant country, but Ernest never had your powers of application.
5 While I was thus engaged, Ernest entered: he had heard me arrive, and hastened to welcome me: "Welcome, my dearest Victor," said he.
6 It was already dusk before we thought of returning; and then we discovered that William and Ernest, who had gone on before, were not to be found.
7 She most of all," said Ernest, "requires consolation; she accused herself of having caused the death of my brother, and that made her very wretched.
8 Presently Ernest came, and enquired if we had seen his brother; he said, that he had been playing with him, that William had run away to hide himself, and that he vainly sought for him, and afterwards waited for a long time, but that he did not return.
9 The death of William, the execution of Justine, the murder of Clerval, and lastly of my wife; even at that moment I knew not that my only remaining friends were safe from the malignity of the fiend; my father even now might be writhing under his grasp, and Ernest might be dead at his feet.