ave done with shadows. On the heights yonder, the sun still
shines. Up there waits one, who will tell you that which he refuses to
divulge to any one else. Ten days ago my agents notified me that a man
was searching for Mrs. Brentano and her daughter Beryl in New York; and
that he had gone to X---, where he spent several days in consultation
with the Catholic priest. Singleton sent me a telegram, and I reached
X---in time to accompany the stranger back to New York. To me he admits
only, that he lives in Montreal; and is the bearer of a message, the
import of which, sacred promises prevent him from revealing to any one
but Miss Brentano. He is an elderly man, and so wary, no amount of
dexterity can circumvent his caution. Very complex and inexplicable
motives brought me here; chiefly the longing to see you, to learn your
retreat, your mode of existence; and also the intention to exact one
condition, before I made it possible for you to find the object of your
search. When you had given me your promise not to marry him, it was my
purpose to allow you one final meeting; and if you forfeited your
compact, the dungeon and the gallows awaited him. Love makes women
martyrs; they are the apostles of the gospel of altruism. Love revives
in men of my stamp, the primeval and undifferentiated tiger. When I
think of all that you have endured, of how nearly I lost you, my
snowdrop, do you wonder I shall hasten to set you in the garden of my
heart, and shelter your dear head from every chill wind of adversity?"

They had passed through a gate, crossed a lawn, and reached a long,
steep flight of steps leading straight up the face of a cliff, to the
grounds attached to a villa. With her hand clasped tightly in his, Mr.
Dunbar and Beryl slowly mounted the abrupt stairway, and when they
gained the elevated terrace, a man who was walking up and down the
sward, came quickly forward.

Pressing her fingers tenderly, Mr. Dunbar released her hand.

"When your interview is ended, come to me yonder at the side gate,
where I have a carriage to take you over the bridge. Father Beckx, this
is Miss Brentano. I leave her in your care."

The sun was sending his last level shafts of light from the edge of the
sky, when a man dressed in long black vestments, a raven-haired,
raven-eyed, thin lipped and clean shaven personage, with a placid
countenance as coldly irresponsive as a stone mask, sat down on the top
step of the long stairs, beside the woman