ould'st but be dead to his love, and not active against
him, I might hope for better things; but I _dare_ not pledge all my
earthly duties to one who is openly an enemy of my own great Master and
Redeemer."

"I will not, cannot deceive thee, Ghita--_that_ I leave to the priests.
Thou know'st my opinions, and must take me as I am, or wholly reject me.
This I say, though I feel that disappointment, if you persist in your
cruelty, will drive me to some desperate act, by means of which I shall
yet taste of the mercies of these English."

"Say not so, Raoul; be prudent for the sake of your country--"

"But not for thine, Ghita?"

"Yes, Raoul, and for mine also. I wish not to conceal how much happier I
shall be in hearing of your welfare and peace of mind. I fear, though an
enemy, it will ever give me pleasure to learn that thou art victorious.
But here is the road, yonder the cottage where my uncle waits for me,
and we must part. Heaven bless thee,--Raoul; my prayers will be full of
thee. Do not--do not risk more to see me; but, if--" The heart of the
girl was so full, that emotion choked her. Raoul listened intently for
the next word, but he listened in vain.

"If what, dear Ghita? Thou wert about to utter something that I feel is
encouraging."

"Oh! how I hope it may be so, my poor Raoul! I was going to add, if God
ever touches thy heart, and thou would'st stand before his altar, a
believer, with one at thy side who is ready and anxious to devote all to
thee but her love of the Being who created her, and her treasures of
future happiness, seek Ghita; thou will find _her_ thou would'st have."

Raoul stretched forth his arms, to clasp the tender girl to his bosom;
but, fearful of herself, she avoided him, and fled along the path, like
one terrified with the apprehension of pursuit. The young man paused a
moment, half inclined to follow; then prudence regained its influence,
and he bethought him of the necessity of getting to a place of safety
while it was yet night. The future was still before him, in hope, and
that hope led him to look forward to other occasions to press his suit.

Little, however, did Raoul Yvard, much as he prized her, know Ghita
Caraccioli. Her nature was full of womanly sensibilities, it is true,
and her heart replete with tenderness for him in particular; but the
adoration she paid to God was of that lasting character which endures to
the end. In all she said and felt, she was truth itself; and