ct? My son and I lived in perfect
happiness together until you came to this neighbourhood; now you have
led a young man on to his ruin and broken the heart of an old man--for
this," he said, tapping the register with a trembling finger, "this is
a lie--a forgery--a foolish piece of deceit, not worth the paper on
which it is written!"

Still Valmai spoke not a word. Oh, what happiness it would have been
to throw herself at the old man's feet, and to confess everything,
here, where Cardo and she had plighted their troth--to have told him of
her ignorance of his fate, of her distracted longing for his return.
Surely, surely he would have forgiven her! She was torn with
conflicting feelings. But, no! Had she borne the contempt and scorn
of all her acquaintances and friends to break down now, and disclose
her secret to the man of all others from whom Cardo desired to keep the
knowledge of it? No, she would die rather than divulge it--and with an
earnest prayer for strength she remained silent, for in silence alone
she had taken refuge since her troubles had come upon her.

"Speak, girl, I implore you! Tell me, is this true?" His voice
trembled, and he came a step nearer to her. "Tell me that it is true,
and I will forgive you and him, for I shall then have a hope that his
love for you will bring him home, though he has no love for me." And
completely overcome by his feeling's he dropped on his knees by the
table, and, leaning his head on his arms, broke into a torrent of
tears. "Oh, Cardo, Cardo, my boy!" he cried. "Come back to me."

There was no answer from Valmai, and when he raised his head again she
was gone. At the words, "Oh! Cardo, Cardo," she had fled down the
aisle, out into the golden sunshine, down the rugged path to the shore,
where behind a huge boulder she flung herself down on the sands, crying
out in a long pent-up agony of tears, "Oh Cardo, Cardo, come back!"

The morning hours passed on, and noontide drew near.

The "Vicare du" emerged from the church porch, pale and calm as usual.
He looked at his watch as he came out into the sunshine, and followed
the same path over which Valmai had sped an hour before. He had
replaced the old registry book in the rusty, iron chest, had closed the
door methodically, and when he had disappeared through the trees the
white owl had flapped back into the tower, and the dimly-lighted church
which had been the scene of such stormy human feelings was once mo