itary estate in the vicinity. The kind urgency of his
host could not be resisted; and the attractions of an only child bade
fair to heal the wounds which Lucie's coldness had inflicted. His stay
was protracted from day to day; and in short with the usual constancy of
despairing lovers,--he soon learned to think the fair daughter of the
"emerald isle" even more charming than the dark-eyed maiden of his own
sunny clime. Her smiles were certainly more encouraging; and, at the end
of a few weeks, De Valette led her to the bridal altar.

La Tour was disappointed in his application to Sir David Kirk, and, for
a time, his tide of fortune seemed entirely to have ebbed. He again
visited Boston, but did not meet with a very cordial reception, though a
few merchants entrusted him with a considerable sum of money, on some
private speculation. This he disposed of, in his own way, and never took
the trouble to render any account, or make the least restitution to the
owners. The death of D'Aulney, however, which happened in the course of
a few years, reversed his prospects, and reinstated him in all his
possessions. He was firmly established in the sole government of Acadia;
and, soon after, he contracted a second marriage with the object of his
early affection,--the still beautiful widow of M. d'Aulney. With no
rival to dispute his authority, his remaining life was passed in
tranquillity; the colony, relieved from strife and contention, began to
flourish, and his descendants for many years enjoyed their inheritance
unmolested.

Arthur Stanhope, a few months after his union with Lucie, was appointed
the agent of some public business, which required a voyage to Pemaquid.
The recollection of father Gilbert forcibly recurred to him, when he
found himself so near the shores of Mount Desart,--a place which the
priest had frequented, probably for its very loneliness, or perhaps,
from some peculiar associations. It was possible he might again find him
there, or hear some tidings which would relieve Lucie's anxiety
respecting him; and, in this hope, he one day sought its sequestered
shades. The sun was declining, when he moored his little bark, and
proceeded alone through the same path, which he remembered, on a former
occasion, to have trodden. The open plain soon burst upon his view; and,
to his surprise, the prostrate wooden cross was again erected in the
midst of it. A figure knelt at its foot; Arthur approached,--the tall,
attenuated fo