The moans for help outside appeared to be especially addressed to her and to her alone, and she seemed to recognize the voice. She crept softly down, and unfastened the door.

"Who is there?" she asked, during a lull in the storm.

The answer came "Patricia! Help me! Oh, help me, and let no one know! It was Emilius's wife.

some light sounds of difficult breathing | her never know her father's disgrace, her which had alarmed her. She got up and mother's shame. It will be an angel's dressed, and tended her bady, who, after deed! For pity's sake, do not deny me! a while, seemed a little easier; but with You are rich, and can afford the charity the natural anxiety of a young mother and if in your husband's life there has Lauretta remained awake watching her been guilt, this act of charity will atone child. for it. See here-look on her innocent face. Having the power, you have not the heart to deny me. Ah, if your angel mother were alive, I should appeal to her, and should not appeal in vain! She loved Emilius, and believed in his innocence yes, to the last she believed in it. I know it for a certainty. You, too, loved my poor martyred husband, and he loved and honored you and yours, with all the strength of his faithful heart. He is innocent, innocent, I tell you! God forbid that I should accuse any one of being guilty - I am too desperate and despairing, and my child's life, the salvation of her soul, are at stake. When your sainted mother died, did all goodness die out of the world? Ah, no -it is not possible; you live again in her. In you she lives again, and all her mercy and sweet kindness which caused us all, from the highest to the lowest, to worship her, to look upon her as something holy. For her sake, if not for my own, you cannot, cannot deny me this charity, you who have it in your power to grant it!"

The

Lauretta assisted her indoors. poor girl was in a pitiable plight. Famished, ragged, penniless, with a baby in her arms. Both were wringing wet. The pelting rain had soaked them through and through.

Throbbing with sympathy and compassion Lauretta quickly undressed Patricia's baby, and put it in her own warm bed. They had by this time reached Lauretta's bedroom, in which her own child was lying. Lauretta wished to call the servants, but Patricia sobbed that she would fly the house if any eyes but Lauretta's rested on her. It appeared, according to the poor girl's story, that her father was in pursuit of her, and had vowed to kill her and her baby.

"He will kill me he will kill me !" moaned Patricia. "No one must know I have been here but you no one, no one ! "

It was then that Lauretta noticed, for the first time, signs in Patricia's face which interpreted by her fear and the poor girl's words, seemed to be signs of approaching death. And still Patricia insisted that she would not remain in the house; no force or entreaties could make her.

"What then can I do for you?" asked Lauretta; she had already given Patricia food and money.

"Take care of my child," replied Patricia. "Bring her up as your own. Let

All this, and more. To say that Lauretta's heart was touched is inadequate ; it overflowed; it yearned to assist the suffering mother, so near to her through her young_motherhood, through the old ties with Emilius and Eric. A choking cry from her own baby girl caused her to rush to the cradle. Within the hour a fatal circumstance occurred. Lauretta's baby drew her last breath.

It has nearly all my days been my belief that everything in human life is to be accounted for by human standards. I am shaken in this belief. In this death of Lauretta's baby I seem to see the finger of fate.

Vain to attempt to describe the agonizing grief of the young mother. So overpowering was it that she lost consciousness. She recovered her senses when the storm had passed and the morning's light was shining on her. When she awoke to reality, what did she see?

Her husband had suddenly and unexpectedly returned home. She was in bed, and he was sitting by her side.

"Gabriel, Gabriel!" she cried, and, overcome by the terror of her great loss, she would have lost consciousness again but for an unaccountable joyousness in his

manner, which mingled strangely with the | Lauretta did not dare to undeceive him. sympathy he must have felt for her suffering condition.

"It was, doubtless, the storm," he said soothingly. "It raged so fiercely for an hour and more, that I am told it exceeded in violence anything of a like kind that has been experienced in these parts for the last fifty years. No wonder it has had such an effect upon you. Half the trees in our garden are uprooted. It hastened my steps home, for I know how these convulsions of nature affect you. But as you see, the danger has passed; the sun is shining brightly; but not more brightly in the heavens than it is shining in my beart."

She listened to him in amazement, and raising herself in bed she looked around for Patricia. She saw no sign of the hapless woman. The cradle in which her baby girl had died was by the side of the bed. Carew bent over it and said in a tone of ecstasy,

She feared, if she told him the truth, that it would unsettle his reason, and produce between her and him a gulf which could never be bridged over. She accepted the strange combination of circumstances, and held her tongue. Her own dear babe was dead, but this new Mildred, whom she grew to love truly as if she were her own, remained, and grew to what she is, a flower of beauty, goodness, and sweetness. Nothing more did Lauretta hear of Patricia; whether she died or lived was not known to her. It is but a detail but necessary to complete the story — to state here that Patricia lived but a few months after the occurrence of this strange event. More important is it to state that, in some unexplained way, Emilius learns that his daughter lived, and that the Carews were bringing her up as if she were a child of their own. His term of imprisonment over, he had come now to claim her.

"Mildred Mildred! Our Mildred It would be impossible for me to give our dear ewe lamb! How sweetly and expression to my feelings of gratitude at soundly she sleeps! Oh, my darling wife! this wonderful revelation. The despair What care I for the injustice of the world into which I had fallen at the contemplanow that this treasure is ours? My sweet tion of the wrecking of my dear son Regimy sweet! You recompense for all. nald's happiness vanished. A fair future Do you know, Lauretta, as travelling home lay still before him, and the most cherished I neared the beloved spot which contained hopes of his heart would be realized. I you and our treasure, my heart almost was sure that Emilius would not mar them. stood still at the fear that I should not A nature so noble as his, so strong in find you both well. And now - how can suffering, so heroic in the highest form of I be sufficiently grateful? Of no account human endurance, could not lend itself to to me is all that transpires outside the the committal of a petty act of selfishcircle which contains you and my dear ness whereby the child upon whose memone in the cradle here. I set great store ory he had lived during his cruel and upon our child, Lauretta. She is to me a unjust imprisonment would be rendered guarantee of all that is worth living for in miserable and unhappy. To this marthe present and the future. When I artyred man I was ready to bow my head, rived home and found you prostrate I was ready to give him my friendship, my symat first overwhelmed, but I soon discovered pathy, my heart's best fruits of confidence that you had fainted, and I judged rightly, and esteem. Thinking of him, I was did I not, dear wife of my heart, that, not awed that a man could live through the being strong, you kept it from me while anguish that had been his portion, and we were apart, in order not to distress still retain the inherent dignity and nobilme? But now all is well all shall be ity of a great and noble nature. well. See, Lauretta, she opens her eyes, our darling. The question is can I raise her safely and place her by your side? Yes, it is done, and I am the happiest father in the world!"

Was she dreaming? In the clothes in which her child died rested this child of Patricia's, smiling, blooming, laughing and crowing as Lauretta drew her to her breast. Carew's delight, his gratitnde, his worship for the babe he believed to be his own, the superstitious store he set upon her young life, were so unbounded, that

XXVII.

"HARK!" whispered Mrs. Carew, her story told, and before we had time to debate upon the wisest course to pursue. "What sound is that?"

It was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. In this sound there was no attempt at concealment. The footsteps were those of one who desired his presence to be known. I divined instantly who it was who, by some means unknown to me, obtaining an entrance into the

house, was now approaching the room in which Mrs. Carew and I were sitting. I could not, and did not blame him. In his place I should have acted as he was acting.

The silver clock chimed the hour of twelve.

"You will see him," I said, rising to my feet and advancing to the door.

"See whom?" asked Mrs. Carew, with her hand at her heart.

"Emilius. It is he and no other man who is coming here. He has a great stake in this house. He is justified.'

"My husband?" she gasped.

"I have no thought of revenge," he said, in a voice as soft as her own. "I am a broken-down man, with one sole hope. But I could not stand before you, the Lauretta I loved with the pure love of a brother, if I did not know myself unstained by crime or any taint of dishonor."

"I believe you, Emilius," she said. "You believe me, Lauretta!" he exclaimed, advancing a step towards her. "I believe you, Emilius," she repeated. Had he come with savage intent she

"Is safe, if you will only be guided by me. It is your duty to be brave and strong. Never was courage more needed than at this moment. And not only cour-could not more surely have disarmed age, but wisdom. Decide quickly. There is no time to lose."

"I will be guided by you," she said faintly.

I threw open the door, and saw Emilius standing in the passage, uncertain which direction to take.

"Enter," I said in a low tone. "Mrs. Carew is here. For the sake of others be gentle, and do not alarm the house."

He entered, and Mrs. Carew and he stood face to face.

him.

"It is more than I dared hope for," he said. "How often, Lauretta, in the gloom of my prison, have I thought of you and your dear parents, of the home of innocence and love in which I was ever a welcome guest, of the once happy village in which I was honored and respected! Some crumbs of comfort fell to my lot, some gleam of light shone through the darkness. Had it not been so, and had I not been animated by another hope, I The native dignity of the man instantly might have gone mad. Good Father Danasserted itself. He removed his ragged iel visited me regularly, at permitted intercap and stood bareheaded before her. vals, until he died. He had the firmest But there was no cringing in his attitude. faith in my innocence, and he brought It was perfectly respectful-something, me messages which fell like heavenly balm indeed, more than that; it was the atti- upon my wounded spirit. Your sainted tude of a man who once was this sweet mother believed in my innocence, and she lady's equal, and who, despite the judg-bade him tell me so, and that her love for ment of the world, still knew himself to be her equal, and worthy of the esteem she once accorded to him. But as he gazed upon her, and she upon him, in silence for a few moments -a silence which I did not dare to break - his stern mood melted. He saw and recognized her, as he had always seen and recognized her in the time that was gone, when he was entitled to hold up his head among men - but never more so in truth and honor than now a gentle-mannered lady, in whose face shone the reflex of a sweet and womanly nature. Remembrances of the past rushed upon him and softened him.

"Forgive me," he said humbly.

And then tears filled my eyes as I saw it, and knew the suffering she was bravely enduring-she held out her hand to him. He bowed his head over it, as for a moment he held it in his.

me was unchanged. And now, you! But your mother's soul shines in your eyes. It could not have been otherwise." He paused a moment or two, reflecting what to say. "On one of Father Daniel's visits he brought me a letter, securely sealed. It was against the prison rules, but that did not deter him from doing what he deemed to be right. I hastily concealed it, noting first, however, with a beating heart, that it was addressed to me in my wife's handwriting. I asked him if he knew what it contained, and he answered no; and then, with a grave face, he bade me prepare for solemn news. I felt at once what was coming. Can you divine my purpose, Lauretta, in telling you this?"

"I think I can," she replied. "Go on.'

"It was while the good priest was on a mission of mercy that a villager came to him and said that in a hut hard by a

He fell upon his knees before her, and kissed her dress, and it was then heard a sound without, which, for a moment, transfixed me with terror. They, overwhelmed by emotion, were deaf to this sound. It was that of a man creeping stealthily from his chamber—and that man Gabriel Carew. Quickly recovering myself, and feeling the necessity for immediate and prompt action, I addressed Emilius and Mrs. Carew.

woman was dying, and, hearing that he was | fulfilled which shone like a star upon me in the neighborhood, begged him to come through the long years of my prison life. to her. Father Daniel went, and discov- Lauretta," he cried, stretching forth his ered that the woman was Patricia, my trembling hands, "my child-my child!" wife. She was very near to death, and "She lives," sobbed Mrs. Carew, "in she had only strength to entreat him to goodness, health, and beauty —a flower of deliver to me, secretly, a letter she had sweetness!" written. He promised to do so, and in a few minutes after he received it from her she drew her last breath. Before she died he asked her after her babe-for Patricia was quite alone-but she did not seem to understand him. Subsequently, however, he learnt from the villager that Patricia had said her baby was dead. This was the mournful news which Father Daniel conveyed to me in prison. Despite his attempts at consolation, I felt when he left me that I was truly alone in the world. Brother, wife, child, all dead! I prayed to God to send death to me soon. What had I to live for? But there was my wife's letter, and before twenty-four hours had passed I found an opportunity to read it. Lauretta, that letter informed me what had become of my child, and it laid upon me an obligation of secrecy for so long a time as I was in prison. Patricia solemnly adjured me not to breathe to a living soul that our child lived in your care; but I was to be released from this obligation when I was a free man. Then I was to act as it seemed to me right to act. Is there any need, Lauretta, for me to enter more fully into the particulars of Patri. cia's letter?"

"There is no need, Emilius."

"Attend to me," I said impressively. "All is well with you. You, Emilius, have gained a daughter, and will embrace her at sunrise. You, dear lady, have not lost a daughter, for Mildred will be to you as she has ever been. I have proved myself your friend. Answer quickly-have I not?

"Yes," they both replied.

"Do not, therefore, ask me for the reasons for my present action. I demand from you both a sacred promise that you will not leave this room till I call for you, till I give you permission. It shall be given at the latest by sunrise. I must have this promise - I must!"

My voice, my manner, Mrs. Carew's fears for her husband, and confidence in me, compelled assent.

"We give it," she said.

"We give it," said Emilius.

"I accept it, and bind you to it. What I do is for the good of all-for your future, for Mildred's future and to avert disaster. Only I can do this. Whatever you hear, you will not open this door without my permission, after I leave it. When I am gone, turn the key, and admit no one unless I desire it. It is understood."

"Yes," they said, "it is understood." As I closed the door behind me I heard the key turned in the lock.

"Except, perhaps, to say that when you were lying senseless before her, and your tender blossom lay dead in its cradle, it was only then that the idea entered Patricia's mind of changing the children's clothes, and leaving her baby with you. It was done, and Patricia stole away with your dead child at her breast, herself to die, as she well knew, before many weeks had passed. I have something to tell you, Lauretta" and here Emilius's voice was charged with a new note of tenderness. "When Father Daniel next visited me I begged him to discover where the dead babe was buried, and to put a few flowers on the grave. The good priest did more. He paid a village woman to attend to it, THE Sound of soft footsteps proceeded, and he left a small sum of money to be as I supposed, from Gabriel Carew, but to spent in beautifying the grave of your my surprise he was not coming towards child. Flowers have grown upon it and the room I had just left, but was stealthily around it from that day to this. I visited ascending the stairs which led to Mildred's the grave before I set forth on my jour- room. His eyes were open, and his moveney here, and I knelt and prayed there. Iments were dictated by intelligent caution, prayed a blessing upon you, Lauretta, and but he was asleep. In his left hand he I prayed that I might live to see the hope carried the naked dagger.

XXVIII.

again.

I ran up the stairs softly and swiftly, | it. I observed as he did so that it was heedless of danger to myself, and walked only by an effort he prevented it from by his side. He took no notice of me. slipping from his hand. Then he spoke Standing by the door of Mildred's room he paused, and was about to put his hand to the handle when I seized his wrist. "What are you about to do?" I whispered, my lips close to his ear. "Speak low, the house must not be disturbed."

Who speaks to me?" he asked. "The spirit of murder," I said. "The Devil, who is leading your soul to perdition. Come with me. I will direct you aright."

"How came I here?" he asked. "Skilful as you are in your profession, you can do nothing for me. How came I here? "I conducted you hither," I said, "from the door of Mildred's room. You have a dagger in your hand."

Until this moment he seemed to be unconscious that he held the weapon, and now he started and allowed it to drop to the ground.

"Give thanks to God," I said solemnly, "that I stepped forward in time to save the life of an innocent child.”

"Great God!" he murmured. fit that I should die!"

"It is

The silver chimes of the clock proclaimed the hour of two. He smiled piteously and gratefully, and said, “It is almost time.

"There is a hidden meaning in your words," I said. "What have you done?" "Doctor, you are wrong. There is no hidden meaning in my words. All is clear and plain. What should I do to myself? What should be done to such a man as I? You are not deceiving me, You found me, you say, at the door of my daughter's room, with the dagger in my hand?"

"It is true."

He shuddered, but he did not hesitate. With my hand still firmly grasping his wrist, he allowed me to lead him from the room. We descended the stairs, slowly, stealthily, until we reached the landing upon which the study was situated. I led him into the room, and with lightning motion locked the door and plucked out the key. Then, uncertain how next to act, I took my hand from his wrist, and retreated a few steps. He, also, was now uncertain of his movements. He stood still a while, then tried the door, and finding it fast, took some halting steps this "I can give you some comfort," I said. way and that, and finally fell into the chair" In one respect I can set your heart at in which he had been accustomed to write.

As I gazed upon him, I was sensible of a gradual change in his appearance. A pallor crept into his face, a film seemed to come across his eyes. Alarmed, I grasped his shoulder with rough strength, and shook him violently.

"Mr. Carew!" I called.

He trembled in every limb, closed his eyes, and clasped them with his handsin one of which he still held the dagger. Presently he removed his hands from his face, and looked confusedly at me. "Are you awake?" I asked.

"Then my purpose was murder. What further confirmation is needed of the truth of my father's revelation? Be thankful, doctor, that your son Reginald has es caped trom my daughter, my miserable, unhappy child. Ah, me! Whose fate is the heaviest, hers or mine, or the innocent flower I married?"

ease."

"Impossible, impossible!" he cried. "Not so. I have that to relate which, though at first it may cause you pain, cannot fail, upon reflection, to make you grateful. If I were to tell you that you have not transmitted to an innocent girl the fatal inheritance which has weighed like a curse upon your life, how would it be with you?

"It would be heaven. it would be light! Unconscious sinner as I am, it might mean forgiveness!"

I have been closeted with your wife, from whose lips I have heard what you

"Yes," he replied faintly. "Give me a should hear. You will listen to me?" glass of water."

"Will you be long?" he asked, with a

I gave him a full glass, and he drained strange smile.