plexities. Here the history moves in veils. How he extorted from
her the promise to renounce her Albano for ever is a mystery watched and
hidden by the Great Sphinx of the oath she swore to him.

On the next day Albano was summoned, and stood with quivering lips
before the beloved.

"I am true to you--even unto death," she said; "but all is over."

He looked upon her, wild, wondering.

"I have resigned you," she said; "and my parents are not to blame. There
is a mystery that has constrained me--"

"Oh, God!" he cried. "Is it thus with external fidelity and love?" In
whirling, cruel passion he pictured his love, her coldness, his pain,
her violated oath.

"I did not think thou wert so hard," she said. "Oh, it grows dark to me;
let me to my mother!"

Albano gazed into the groping, timid face, and guessed all--her
blindness had returned!

The mother rushed up. "May God bring you retribution for this!" cried
Albano to her. "Farewell, unhappy Liana!"

For many days Albano lived without love or hope, in bitter
self-reproach; every recollection darted into him a scorpion-sting. And
to him in his agony came the tormenting news that the fickle Roquairol
had deserted Rabette. He drove the false one from his presence; sister
and brother, beloved and friend, were now utterly lost to him.

At length he learned that Liana had recovered her sight, and that she
was dying. Once more, for the last time, he was admitted to her
presence. She reclined in an easy-chair, white-clad, with white, sunken
cheeks.

"Welcome, Albano!" she said feebly, but with the old smile. "Some day
thou wilt know why I parted from thee. On this, my dying day, I tell
thee my heart has been true to thee." She handed him a sheet with a
sketch she had made with trembling hand of the noble head of Linda de
Romeiro. "It is my last wish that them shouldst love her," she said.
"She is more worthy of thee."

"Ah, forgive, forgive!" sobbed Albano.

"Farewell, beloved!" she said calmly, while her feeble hand pressed his.
For a while she was silent. Suddenly she said, with a low tone of
gladness, "Caroline! Here, here, Caroline! How beautiful thou art!"
Liana's fingers ceased to play; she lay peaceful and smiling, but dead.

_II.--Linda De Romeiro_

Albano's state for a long time was one of fever. He lay dressed in bed,
unable to walk, in a burning heat, talking wildly, and as each hour
struck on the clock, springing up to kneel down and utter the pra