residuary legatee of Armand La Vigne!

His advent was a revelation of my secret, through the necessity of
surprise; and as, when the banquet is announced and the ball draws near
its close, the maskers, so far unknown to each other, lay by their
disguises, glad to be so relieved, draw breath and clasp hands once more
in the freedom of social reality, so I, who had played too long a weary
part, felt a new life infused into my veins when my mask was suddenly
laid aside, and the necessity of disguise was over.

The time was so near at hand now, I felt, when I could claim my own from
Bainrothe, and cast off all shackles of guardianship and minority, that
I no longer feared the consequences of this revelation. In September we
should meet on new ground. I, no more a minor, would be beyond the reach
of his subtle mastery; and, until then--the time assigned for the
expiration of his year of trust--he would remain in Europe, with the
wide sea between us, and little probability of information through the
medium of public rumor.

I would be secret, cautious, abide in the shadow, until the hour arrived
to emerge therefrom, and, with the aid of God and Wardour Wentworth,
defeat his schemes and vindicate the truth!

Alas for human foresight! Alas for Fate!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Pronounced popularly "_Less der-neer_."]

_SEA AND SHORE_

"No fears hath she! Her giant form
Majestically calm would go
O'er wrathful surge, through blackening storm,
'Mid the deep darkness, white as snow!
So stately her bearing, so proud her array,
The main she will traverse forever and aye!
Many ports shall exult in the gleam of her mast--
Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer, this hour is her last!"

WILSON, "_Isle of Palms_."

* * * * *

"Then hold her
Strictly confined in sombre banishment,
And doubt not but she will ere long, full gladly,
Her freedom purchase at the price you name."

* * * * *

"No, subtle snake!
It is the baseness of thy selfish mind,
Full of all guile, and cunning, and deceit,
That severs us so far, and shall do _ever_."

* * * * *

"Despair shall give me strength--where is the door?
Mine eyes are dark! I cannot find it now.
O God! protect me in this awful pass!"

JOANNA BAILLIE, _Tragedy of "Orra."_