thunder, accompanied with vivid flashes of
lightning, resounded fearfully, as Henry Linwood stepped from his
chaise and entered Isabella's cottage.

More than a fortnight had elapsed since the accidental meeting, and
Isabella was in doubt as to who the lady was that Henry was with in the
carriage. Little, however, did she think that it was his wife. With a
smile, Isabella met the young man as he entered her little dwelling.
Clotelle had already gone to bed, but her father's voice roused her
from her sleep, and she was soon sitting on his knee.

The pale and agitated countenance of Henry betrayed his uneasiness, but
Isabella's mild and laughing allusion to the incident of their meeting
him on the day of his pleasure-drive, and her saying, "I presume, dear
Henry, that the lady was one of your relatives," led him to believe
that she was still in ignorance of his marriage. She was, in fact,
ignorant who the lady was who accompanied the man she loved on that
eventful day. He, aware of this, now acted more like himself, and
passed the thing off as a joke. At heart, however, Isabella felt
uneasy, and this uneasiness would at times show itself to the young
man. At last, and with a great effort, she said,--

"Now, dear Henry, if I am in the way of your future happiness, say so,
and I will release you from any promises that you have made me. I know
there is no law by which I can hold you, and if there was, I would not
resort to it. You are as dear to me as ever, and my thoughts shall
always be devoted to you. It would be a great sacrifice for me to give
you up to another, but if it be your desire, as great as the sacrifice
is, I will make it. Send me and your child into a Free State if we are
in your way."

Again and again Linwood assured her that no woman possessed his love
but her. Oh, what falsehood and deceit man can put on when dealing with
woman's love!

The unabated storm kept Henry from returning home until after the clock
had struck two, and as he drew near his residence he saw his wife
standing at the window. Giving his horse in charge of the servant who
was waiting, he entered the house, and found his wife in tears.
Although he had never satisfied Gertrude as to who the quadroon woman
and child were, he had kept her comparatively easy by his close
attention to her, and by telling her that she was mistaken in regard to
the child's calling him "papa." His absence that night, however,
without any apparent cause, had