Drawing a knife , he sustained her as she was sinking to the ground , and aimed it at her bosom . In the action and in the look and attitude of each the painter beheld the figures of his sketch . The picture , with all its tremendous coloring , was finished . `` Hold , madman ! '' cried he , sternly . He had advanced from the door and interposed himself between the wretched beings with the same sense of power to regulate their destiny as to alter a scene upon the canvas . He stood like a magician controlling the phantoms which he had evoked . `` What ! '' muttered Walter Ludlow as he relapsed from fierce excitement into sullen gloom . `` Does Fate impede its own decree ? '' `` Wretched lady , '' said the painter , `` did I not warn you ? '' `` You did , '' replied Elinor , calmly , as her terror gave place to the quiet grief which it had disturbed . `` But I loved him . '' Is there not a deep moral in the tale ? Could the result of one or all our deeds be shadowed forth and set before us , some would call it fate and hurry onward , others be swept along by their passionate desires , and none be turned aside by the prophetic pictures . DAVID SWAN . A FANTASY . We can be but partially acquainted even with the events which actually influence our course through life and our final destiny . There are innumerable other events , if such they may be called , which come close upon us , yet pass away without actual results or even betraying their near approach by the reflection of any light or shadow across our minds . Could we know all the vicissitudes of our fortunes , life would be too full of hope and fear , exultation or disappointment , to afford us a single hour of true serenity .
This idea may be illustrated by a page from the secret history XXXXX David Swan .
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