little she knew
her own heart, the poor girl burst into a renewed agony of grief.

"Calm your feelings, then, dear Virginia," said Bernard, "and you shall
see him. But by giving way thus, you would unman him."

"You remind me of my duty, my friend," said Virginia, controlling
herself, with a strong effort, "and I will not again forget it in my
selfish grief. Shall we go now?"

"Remain here, but a few moments, patiently," he replied, "and I will
seek the governor, and urge him to relent. If I fail, I will return to
you."

Leaving the young girl once more to her own sad reflections, Alfred
Bernard left the room.

"Virtue has its own reward," he muttered, as he walked slowly along. "I
wonder how many would be virtuous if it were not so! Self is at last the
mainspring of action, and when it produces good, we call it virtue; when
it accomplishes evil, we call it vice; wherein, then, am I worse than my
fellow man? Here am I, now, giving this poor girl a interview with her
rebel lover, and extracting some happiness for them, even from their
misery. And yet I am not a whit the worse off. Nay, I am benefited, for
gratitude is a sure prompter of love; and when Hansford is out of the
way, who so fit to supply the niche, left vacant in her heart, as Alfred
Bernard, who soothed their mutual grief. Thus virtue is often a valuable
handmaid to success, and may be used for our purposes, when we want her
assistance, and afterwards be whistled to the winds as a pestilent jade.
Machiavelli in politics, Loyola in religion, Rochefoucault in society,
ye are the mighty three, who, seeing the human heart in all its
nakedness, have dared to tear the mask from its deformed and hideous
features."

"What in the world are you muttering about, Alfred?" said Governor
Berkeley, as they met in the porch, as Bernard had finished this
diabolical soliloquy.

"Oh nothing," replied the young intriguer. "But I came to seek your
excellency."

"And I to seek for you, my sage young counsellor; I have to advise with
you upon a subject which lies heavy on my heart, Alfred."

"You need only command my counsel and it is yours," said Bernard, "but I
fear that I can be of little assistance in your reflections."

"Yes you can, my boy," returned Berkeley, "I know not whether you will
esteem it a compliment or not, Alfred, but yours is an old head on young
shoulders, and the heart, which in the season of youth often flits away
from the sober path of judgmen