closing of the church door and the rattling of carriage wheels in
the direction of the Chaja close an eventful day, recorded in golden
letter in heaven's history of repentant humanity.

Chapter XXV.

Honor Saved.

A series of surprises followed this memorable conversion. Alvira's
absence from the garrison was the subject of serious comment. Rumor
was busy, and disposed of the young captain by every imaginable
violent death. One report seemed the most probable and gained ground.
It was thought the partisans of the defeated party, remembering the
victory of Vesuvius, and galled at the popularity of the young captain,
had waylaid and murdered him. At the same time the mangled body of
a young man was found washed into the river by the tide; it was
mutilated and disfigured beyond recognition; the populace claimed
it to be the body of their favorite, and loud and still rang the
indignant cry for vengeance. The city was in commotion. The
authorities were induced to believe the report, and large rewards were
offered for the apprehension of the murderers. 'Tis but a spark that
may set the wood on fire; and popular feeling, fired by a random rumor,
now blazed in all the fury of a political conflagration.

In the midst of the commotion the commandant of the forces received
a polite note requesting his presence at the residence of the
Marchioness de Stefano. Puzzled at the strange summons, but polite
to a fault, he appeared in grand tenu at the appointed hour in the
salons of the Marchioness. A young lady was ushered in to the
apartment. She was dressed in black, wore no jewelry, and seemed a
little confused; a majestic mien set off some natural charms, but her
features had an expression of care and sadness such as is read on the
countenance of the loving fair one who has been widowed in her bloom.
Her eyes were red, for many tears had dimmed them; her voice was weak,
for shame had choked the utterances in their birth; her whole demeanor
expressed deep anxiety and trouble.

The commandant was kind-hearted, but a stern ruler in those days of
trouble; he had seen in the revolutions of many years the miseries
and sorrows of life; though insensible to the horrors of the
battle-field, he felt a deep, touching sympathy with its real victims
who survive and suffer for years in silent woe, in affections that have
been ruthlessly blasted by cruel war. The feeling of compassion
towards the strange lady introduced to