victim, there is a God above!

* * * * *

The morning dawned, and the sun rose as cloudless as though no deeds of
crime, needing the darkness to cover them, had been perpetrated on the
earth. The Waltons left with the company they expected to join at Pittsburg
on the succeeding day, not knowing that Durant had slept under the same
roof with them. No, not so fast. One of their number _did_ know the
fact--Ellen. Was it that knowledge that caused the paleness on her cheek,
that aroused the anxious solicitude of her tender and watchful parents?

"Are you sick, my daughter?" was the mother's affectionate inquiry. But she
was cheered by the assurance that there was no serious cause of alarm; and
that Ellen was only a little unwell. Without any mishap, they reached their
new home in Kentucky.

Two weeks had passed, and Eliza Fleming was still unmarried. During that
time, she had seen Durant but twice, and he appeared desirous of avoiding a
private interview. She was not slow to perceive this, and it filled her
mind with misgivings of his truth, or the sincerity of his protestations.
She demanded an interview; the demand was acceded to; and she said:

"Why do you not make arrangements for our approaching marriage? It is
surely time you were about it."

"Oh, no hurry yet," he replied. "There is plenty of time."

"Plenty of time! Yes, if all that need be done, is to call the minister,
and have the ceremony performed! But it strikes me this is _not_ all.
However, what day have you fixed upon as your choice for the wedding
occasion?"

"I can't say as I have thought upon any day in particular; in fact, the
subject had so far escaped my mind, that I had nearly forgotten it
entirely."

"A devoted lover, truly! What am I to think of such unmerited coldness?"
and she burst into tears.

"Come, Eliza, let us understand each other, and be friends."

"Friends! Is that all?"

"Lovers, then."

"Husband and wife, you mean."

"Lovers only; as we have been."

"Am I to understand you as saying you will not fulfill your written promise
of making me your lawful wife?"

"You might be farther from the truth."

"Is this the reward of my devotion? the fruits of my sacrifice? Oh, God,
who shall measure the depths of wickedness of a depraved heart? Sir, I
shall enforce my rights."

"You dare not do it."

"Why not?"

"The very attempt will ruin yourself, and your father's business by
bringing dis