ines of true religion."

"Be sure, sir," answered the Earl, "that I will endeavor to do my duty
toward you according to my honest convictions. And now, Eveline, bid
farewell. The favoring breeze is bellying in the half unfurled sails,
gallant Captain Sparhawk is impatient, and we must away."

Lady Eveline fell upon the neck of the weeping Dame Spikeman, and
after kissing her repeatedly, exchanged farewells with those around
her, [as did all about to depart,] and then, accompanied by a numerous
train, the passengers proceeded to the ship, whither the Lady
Geraldine had preceded them, and where, also, they found Philip Joy.
The sails were cast off from the yards and hoisted home; the fair wind
gracefully curved the canvas, and the good ship, with silver waves
breaking at her prow, and a stream of light following in her wake,
gallantly stood down the bay.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

So, splendid dreams, and slumbers sweet,
To each and all--Good Night.

WILLIAM E. HURLOUT.

Here might this tale be permitted to end, were it not that a doubt has
arisen in my mind whether some particulars do not need explanation.
Doubtless the nimble wits of the sagacious have fathomed to their
satisfaction all that seemed mysterious; but there may be others who,
either less imaginative or more indolent, would like an elaborate
elucidation. These latter I invite to accompany me across the blue
Atlantic to the pleasant town of Exeter, in the lovely county of
Devon, in England.

In the nave of the splendid old cathedral of that town, two men,
engaged in conversation, are walking backwards and forwards, one of
whom we recognize as the Knight of the Golden Melice; the other is a
stranger. Through the stained glass, the dim light of a winter's
afternoon falls indistinctly on the stone floor, while from behind the
screen which separates the open area where they are pacing from the
portion devoted to religious worship, the solemn tones of an organ
(for it is the time of evening service) are floating around the massy
pillars and among the sculptured arches, as if imploring saintly rest
for the high born nobles and reverend bishops who, for hundreds of
years, have lain in their marble tombs around. None are present save
the two, and, as with reverent feet they tread, they seem dwarfed into
children by the huge proportions of the building.

"Two beings more blessed with mutual affection than the young Earl of
Cliffmere and his lovely coun