so employed, my eyes fell upon a piece of paper carelessly folded.
It lay upon the rough table--the only object there, with the exception
of some crumbs of corn-bread, and the _debris_ of a tobacco-pipe. I
_recognised_ the piece of paper. It was an old acquaintance--the leaf
from my memorandum-book--upon which was written that laconic "last will
and testament," jointly signed by the squatter and myself. On observing
this paper upon the table, it did not occur to me, that it had been left
there with any design. My reflection was, that the squatter had taken
it from the stump, and carried it into the house--perhaps to shew it to
his clerical visitor. No doubt, they had enjoyed a good laugh over it--
as the souvenir of a ludicrous incident; and for this very reason I
resolved upon preserving it.

I had taken the document in my hand, and was about depositing it in my
pocket-book, when my eye was attracted by some fresh writing on the
paper. A slight scrutiny of the recent cipher secured for the torn leaf
a deeper interest than I had before felt in it: I saw that it was the
chirography of a female hand. What other than the hand of Lilian? I
thought of no other. Beyond doubt, her fingers had guided the pencil--
for it was pencil-writing--and guided it so deftly, as to impress me
with surprise and admiration. Astonished was I, that she--the child of
a rude squatter--should be able to set down her ideas in so fair a
hand--thoughts thrilling, though simply expressed.

Ah! sweet simple words! Trembled my own hand as I read them--trembled
as from a spell of delirium--a delirium produced by the antagonistic
emotions of grief and joy! Yes! both were present. In that simple
inscript I had found cue for both: for there I learnt the ecstatic truth
that I was beloved, and along with it the bitter intelligence, that my
love was lost to me for ever! Words of welcome, and words of woe! how
could they be thus commingled? Read them, and learn:

"To Edward Warfield,--

"Stranger!--It is to say farewell, but I am very sad as I write these
words. When you asked me to promise to meet you again, I was happy, I
said, Yes. O sir! it can never be! We are going to some far place, and
shall be gone before you come here, and I shall never see you again. It
is very distant, and I do not know the name of the country, for it is
not in Tennessee, nor in the United States, but somewhere in the west, a
long way beyond the Mississippi ri