y pen to trace; and what has been the return? But why do
I speak of these things to one whose heart is sealed against affection,
and whose nature rejects the very name of love? you will be a merciless
judge, Eustace!"

[Illustration: 362]

"Go on; let me hear you out, Lola," said the priest, gently.

"The tale is soon told," rejoined she, hurriedly. "My letter reached him
on the eve of a great battle. The army, it appears, had been marching
for weeks, and suddenly came upon the enemy without expecting it. He
told me so much in about as many words, and said that he was passing
what might, perhaps, prove his last hours of life in replying to me.
'Outnumbered and outmanoeuvred, nothing remains but to sell our lives
dearly, and even in our defeat make the name of Englishmen one of terror
to our enemies.' So he wrote, and so I could have read, with a swelling
but not a breaking heart, had he not added that, for my warm affection,
my whole soul's devotion, he had nothing but his friendship to give in
return; that his heart had long since been another's, and that, although
she never could be his, never in all likelihood know of his affection,
he would die with her name upon his lips, her image in his heart. 'It
matters little,' added he, 'in what channel flow the feelings of one,
where to-morrow, in all likelihood, the course will be dried up forever.
Let me, however, with what may be the last lines I shall ever write,
thank you--nay, bless you--for one passage of your letter, and the
thought of which will nerve my heart in the conflict now so near, and
make me meet my last hour with an unbroken spirit.' The mystery of these
words I never could penetrate, nor have I the slightest clew to their
meaning. But why should I care for them? Enough that I am slighted,
despised, and rejected! This letter came to my hands six weeks ago. I at
once wrote to the Prince Midchekoff, telling him that the woman he was
about to marry loved, and was loved, by another; that she entertained no
feeling towards himself but of dread and terror. I told him, too, that
her very beauty would not withstand the inroads of a sorrow that was
corroding her heart He replied to me, and I wrote again. I was now his
confidante, and he told me all,----how that he had addressed a formal
demand to the Emperor for leave to marry, and how he had taken safe
measures to have his prayer rejected. Then came the tidings of the
Czar's refusal to Madame de Heidendorf, and