compassion on his face, went towards his
friend, and, laying his head on Tonza's shoulder, said gently:

"My cousin, you have sinned, but God has sent your punishment; that is
sufficient. Live to devote your life to bringing up the little
motherless children left to you. Restore Sampayo to his own again;
then try, by true repentance, to atone for the wrong you did him."

Tonza raised his head, and glanced gratefully at Panteleone; but his
eyes were full of firm resolution none could understand.

"You are good, but my life is worth nothing, now she has gone. See,
this poor babe will soon follow her mother. Garcia I leave to you; he
is too young to realize his loss; but never let him know his father's
sin!" he exclaimed hoarsely; and, after pressing his boy tightly to
his breast, kissed the dying child; then softly lifting Lianor in his
arms, he first pressed his lips reverently on her pale brow, and,
before any one could prevent him, or realize what he was about to do,
he had sprang from the rock into the deep torrent, and disappeared
with his precious burden from their view.

A cry of horror burst from the lips of all present, and many efforts
were made to find their bodies; but in vain.

With saddened hearts the people turned away, and continued their
journey, praying they might ere long find help and shelter.

Before the day had closed another soul had winged its flight to
Heaven, and the tiny waxen form of Lianor's baby-girl left in its last
resting-place in the golden sand.

A small wooden house, surrounded by sweet-scented flowers of brightest
hue, amongst which a beautiful, dark-eyed woman was softly gliding,
culling large clusters of the delicate blossoms.

As she stopped to gather a few rich carnations, singing in a low,
musical voice, a man, young and handsome, slipped from beneath the
pretty porch, and walking noiselessly behind her, suddenly lifted her
in his strong arms, pressing the slight form tenderly to his breast.

"Take care, Diniz," she cried, warningly, a ring of deepest joy
thrilling her clear voice. "You will spoil all my flowers!"

"Except the fairest of all--yourself. Ah, Miriam, my darling! how
happy we have been since that day when you so generously saved me from
a felon's doom!" rapturously kissing the beautiful, dark face so near
his own.

Their bliss was broken by a crowd of brown-skinned people, moving
toward the cottage, seemingly acting under some emotion.

"What has happene