bring back Captain Singleton,
at once. Tell him he must see Pauline before the set of sun, and that I
desire it."

The old man comprehended and did not require to be told twice.

"Good," he exclaimed. "That is a grand girl. She understood it all at a
glance. What I could not do, she has done. Pauline will now be saved.
Poor Pauline!"

For three hours the friends were together, hand clasped in hand. Words
were spoken that were full of ineffable tenderness. There were intervals
of silence no less replete with happiness. There was a mutual language
of thorough understanding in the eyes as well as on the lips. Zulma's
theme was of hope. She quickly reached that point where she dismissed
the idea of death and insisted on life for the mutual enjoyment of the
twain. Not for Pauline's sake, but for her own, now that she knew what
she knew, she saw it was necessary that death should be robbed of its
sting and the grave resign its victory. Did Pauline acquiesce? She said
not so--how could she dare, she that was dying without hope?--but there
was a lambent gleam in her sunken eye, as of a ray of the future's
sunshine playing upon it.

The afternoon passed softly, gently. The sun was gliding behind the
trees and the long shadows crept over the valley faintly dimming the
window panes. The holy hour of twilight had come. The angelus bells from
the turret of the distant village church echoed sweetly on the tranquil
air, and Zulma knelt by the bedside to murmur the _Ave Maria_. When she
rose, she stood and listened. There were carriage wheels at the door.

"Do you hear?" she said.

Pauline opened great bewildered eyes and her features became pinched.
Then turning rapidly, she hid her face in the pillow, sobbing
convulsively.

"Oh, Zulma, this is too much. Why did you do it? It must not be. Oh, let
me die."

She essayed to say more but tears choked her utterance.

"It is God's will!" whispered Zulma in calm, clear accents, still
standing above her with a look of inspiration.

The invalid turned back on her pillow, cast an agonizing glance of
gratitude upon her friend, and holding out her hand murmured.

"Heaven bless you, dearest."

XVI.

THE HOUR OF GLOOM.

The interview with Cary Singleton was not delayed a moment. Both he and
Pauline desired that Zulma should be present, but she imagined a
pressing pretext and glided out of the chamber. As she did so, her face
was irradiated. Meeting Batoche in the passage