the
creatures of circumstance. All that now remains for us is to submit--to
bow with fortitude to the mysterious ways of Providence. To acknowledge,
even in our hearts' deep agony, that whatever is, is right."

"Let us pray," said Anthony solemnly, holding up her hands in his; "pray
that God may give us strength to undergo the trial that awaits us."

"With tears and sobs and struggling sighs, those unhappy young lovers
poured out their full hearts to God. They appealed to his love, his
justice, his mercy; they cried to him in their strong agony; and even in
that moment of unutterable woe they found peace.

"Go, my beloved," whispered Anthony, "I can part with you now. We shall
soon meet again."

"To part no more for ever!" sobbed Juliet, struggling with her tears.
"I have a message for you from one who has already passed the dark
valley--from one who loved you--poor Clary."

"I cannot bear it now," said Anthony. "I hope soon to hear a more joyful
message from her gentle lips. Farewell, my Juliet--my soul's first and
only earthly love! Live for my sake--live to defend my memory from
infamy. Time will dissipate the clouds that now blacken my name; and the
day will come when Juliet Whitmore will not have cause to blush for her
unfortunate lover."

One long and last embrace--one gush of free and heartfelt tears--one sad
impassioned kiss, and Anthony Hurdlestone was once more alone in the
condemned cell, with silence and darkness--mute emblems of
death--brooding around him.

He had all this time unconsciously held Clary's letter strained in his
hand; and as his thoughts flowed back to her he longed intensely to read
it. The visit of the good chaplain, who brought with him a light,
afforded him the opportunity he so much desired.

A strange awe came over him as he unfolded the paper. The hand that had
traced it was no longer of earth; the spirit that had dictated it was
removed to another sphere. Yet he fancied, as he read the paper, that
the soft blue eyes of Clary looked into his own; that her bright golden
locks fanned his feverish cheek; that she was actually before him.
Several times he started and looked up into the face of the chaplain
before he could dispel the vision.

"Anthony, Dear Anthony, (she wrote.)

"This will meet you at a time when sorrow for my death will be lost
in joy, that we shall so soon meet in heaven. Fear not, Anthony;
that hour may be far distant. God is just. You