it is a vague, undefined sensation,
which I hope reason will soon banish from my mind. I am not now, and never
have been, a believer in presentiments, and I do not intend to become a
convert to the notion to-day."

"I am glad to hear you speak in that manner. There are but few things in
the compass of possibility that may not be achieved, if we bring a resolute
will to bear upon them. The belief in presentiments, signs of good and bad
luck, and the like, is calculated, in no small degree, to 'make slaves of
us all,' and to detract very much from the happiness we might otherwise
enjoy. I have known persons who were perfect slaves to such things, having
their evil omens and good omens, their bad days and good days, their moon
signs, their owl signs, their cat and dog signs, and I know not what all
other kinds of signs, all of which were regarded with the reverence due
only to sacred things. I must confess I have often been disgusted at the
tomfoolery of some of these 'signs' people."

"Really, I hope you do not intend to be _personal_ in your remarks?"

"My usual reply to such inquiries is, 'if the shoe fits, wear it;' but you
know, love, I had no intention of alluding to you in what I said; at least,
if you did not know it, I tell you so now."

"Very well; your amusing strictures on the 'signs' have had the effect to
dispel, in a good degree, my forebodings of evil, whatever may have given
rise to them. I presume, if the sign is really reliable, I may now conclude
that the danger, if any was near me, has passed away."

"One would naturally suppose that the more imminent the danger, the
heavier would be the pressure on the spirits."

"And who knows but some unseen calamity _was_ near us--a serpent, for
instance, whose deadly fangs might have proved fatal, or some other unknown
or invisible foe, with power to work us evil?"

"Without entering the field of speculation, we will just suppose your
snakeship has departed, and, as your spirits have recovered their wonted
elasticity, let us talk of more pleasing and interesting matters."

"With all my heart."

And _had_ the serpent, Durant, really withdrawn himself? Had some long
buried cord of human sympathy at last been touched in his heart, and the
slumbering emotions of a better nature awakened? Let us hope so if we can.

The lovers continued to converse of their hopes for the future, and regrets
for the immediate separation; and their attention became so fixed in ea