you that I deceive
you?--abandon such a thought; for learn that should I be tempted to harm
you, the only object of my life would be blasted; trust then my
interest, if you cannot trust my honor. I came to render you a service,
which must be reciprocal. Nay, start not; you may well marvel what
affinity there can be between an unfortunate and helpless female, and an
outcast like myself; yet this seeming anomaly exists--we are drawn
together by the most powerful ties that can bind one fellow-creature to
another: for we are linked by those of misfortune, and misfortune
wrought by the same individual."

"And yet," cried Theodora, "despite of your enmity to the barbarous,
unfeeling man, you strenuously seconded his plans; had you not aided
him, I should not have been here."

"Perhaps not," replied the renegade, preserving an unalterable
composure; "but where would you have been? Have you reflected well on
your helpless situation, and the character of the foul betrayer. Ah!
call to your memory the last scene of his desertion, and judge by his
behaviour then, of what he might have been capable, in order to remove
from his path the unfortunate obstacle that impeded his ambitious and
criminal career."

"The monster was capable of all!" exclaimed Theodora, with dreadful
agitation; for the recital of her lover's perfidy rudely awoke all the
dormant feelings of the heart.

"I have saved you from his infernal machinations;" said the renegade.
"My conduct to you then appeared barbarous, but my subsequent behaviour
must have effaced from your mind those unfavorable impressions. If not,
the time is come for you to learn, and me to disclose, the motives by
which all my words and actions have been directed. Theodora," he then
added, in a firm but soothing tone, "my proceedings have been to you
mysterious; the mystery here ends--I have procured liberty, home,
happiness for you--revenge for myself."

"Heavens!" exclaimed Theodora, "explain, what mean you?"

"I mean the truth. Be cautious and confident, and not many days shall
pass ere you flee from the company of men whom you abhor, and I despise.
Ere long you shall return to your deserted home, and enjoy the
consolation which a father can confer--a happiness which they say is
great.--I never knew it."

"Can this be real?" exclaimed Theodora, with a scream of surprise and
joy. "Oh, Alagraf, are you then so generous?" and unable to restrain the
swelling emotion of her grateful hear