f
the father became white as death, and, bounding forward, he pulled her
aside, saying:

"No, no! Cora, you shall not go another step with her!"

At sound of his voice, the woman in black seized his arm and cried:

"George! George! George!"

"Away! away!"

"No, no! Now that I have found you, I will not let you go. You may kill
me, cut off my hands, and still the fingers will cling to you. Oh, God!
I thank thee, that, after so many years, thou hast answered my prayers!"

"Woman, release me!"

"George! George!"

Cora was lost in a maze of bewilderment. She was conscious of the
strange woman in black clutching her father's arm and calling him
George, while he strove to drive her away.

A great throng of people gathered about them. Mr. Waters became rude in
his efforts to break away. At last he flung her off, and she fell, her
forehead striking on the sharp corner of a stone, which started the
blood trickling down her fair white brow. The woman swooned. Sight of
blood touched the heart of George Waters, and, stooping, he raised the
inanimate form in his arms, as tenderly as if she had been an infant,
and bore her to a public house and a private room.

When the woman in black recovered consciousness, she and George Waters
were alone, and he was tenderly dressing the wound he had made.

"George," she said with a smile, "you will let me talk with you now?"

"Yes."

"George, you believed me guilty when you abandoned me at Edinburgh?"

"Yes."

"You do yet?"

"I do."

"George, Joseph Swartz told you a falsehood."

"No, no, woman, do not----"

"Hold, George; let me show you his dying confession. Let me show you the
testimony of a priest."

She took up a small, red leather bag, such as was used in those days by
ladies, undid the strings and, opening it, drew forth some papers, which
she handed to him.

"Do you know the writing?" she asked.

"This is Joseph Swartz, my best and truest friend."

"No, no; read his death-bed confession, and you will see he was your
malignant foe."

He read the paper through, and his hands trembled with excitement,
astonishment and rage. He was about to say something, when she
interrupted him with:

"No, no; don't, don't, George. He is dead--let us forgive. If you want
more proof, I have it. See Father Healey's statement. He took Joseph
Swartz's confession."

Glancing at the paper, he threw it aside and cried:

"Honore! Honore! Forgive me! I should have believed you,