, graven as they were on a mind that was
to retain them to the last. All the levities they indulged in during the
voyage,--which was, in fact, little other than an orgie from the hour
they sailed to that they landed, dashed with little gloomy visits to
that darkened sick berth where Hawke lay,--all were remembered, all
chronicled.

The cottage itself--The Hawke's Nest, as it was whimsically called--he
described with all the picturesque ardor of an artist It was truly a
most lovely spot, nestled down in a cleft between the hills, and so shut
in from all wintry influences that the oranges and myrtles overgrew
it as though the soil were Italy. The grounds were of that half-park,
half-garden order, which combines greensward and flowering border, and
masses into one beauteous whole the glories of the forest-tree with the
spray-like elegance of the shrub. There was a little lake, too, with
an island, over whose leafy copper beeches a little Gothic spire
appeared,--an imitation of some richly ornamented shrine in Moorish
Spain. What was it that in this dark story would still attract him to
the scenery of this spot, making him linger and dally in it as though he
could not tear himself away? Why would he loiter in description of some
shady alley, some woodbine-trellised path, as though the scene had no
other memories but those of a blissful bygone? In fact, such was the
sort of fascination the locality seemed to exercise over him, that his
voice grew softer, the words faltered as he spoke them, and once he drew
his hand across his eyes, as though to wipe away a tear.

"Was it not strange, Stocmar," broke he suddenly in, "I was never able
to see her one moment alone? She avoided it in fifty ways! Hawke kept
his room for two days after we arrived, and we scarcely ever saw her,
and when we did, it was hurriedly and passingly. Godfrey, too, he
would send for one of us,--always one, mark you, alone; and after a few
muttering words about his suffering, he 'd be sure to say, 'Can _you_
tell me what has brought them all down here? I can't get it out of my
head that there ain't mischief brewing.' Now each of us in turn had
heard this speech, and we conned it over and over again. 'It's the woman
has put this notion in his head,' said Towers. 'I 'll take my oath it
came from _her_. Look to _that_, Paul Hunt,' said he to me, 'for you
have influence in that quarter.' I retorted angrily to this, and very
high words passed between us; in fact