Year: 1876

tale Alasauez had written her of her husband 8
desertion, yet she was naturally much dis
turbed by this attack upon her peace. She
feared some sinister motive on the Spaniard's
part, lying deeper beneath the surface than
she was able to penetrate; and her dread and
distrust of him became greater than before.
She felt herself 80 alone, so utterly helpless,
that it was no wonder her naturally coura-
geous mind shrank from the thought of the
danger to which she might be exposed from
his malice. She often seriously considered
the expediency Of removing from her present
home, in order to get out of his reach. And
yet she knew not where to 60, unless she re-
turned to her friends in New York, and this
was a step she could not bear to contemplate.
Had she seen her husbands eyes closed in
death, and the sod iaid over him; she cuufid
then have sought her former home, and
mourned him, at least, with mind disturbed
by no torturing doubts and fears-and she al
most felt now as if it would be luxury to in
-dulge in sorrow like that but to 60 back
with the shadow of this horrible uncertainty
hanging over her was impossible. She could
not even write about him, for she dread
ed to think of the aspersions which might
be cast upon him if she only spoke of his mys-
terious absence and she could not write her.
self widow without knowing whether be were
alive or dead. It would, in truth, be difficult
to imagine more sorrowful situation than
hers at this period and but for the one conso-
lation which remained to her, she felt that she
must have utterly succumbed beneath its bur-
den. In the daytime, by dint of compelling
herself to attend to her household affairs, she
managed, in some degree, to maintain her equa-
nimity. But when night came, and there was
nothing more to occupy her attention, then, in
the silence and loneliness, she would sit, a SOL
itary watcher, after every other inmate of the
house had sought repose, and yield herself a
prey to the torturing thoughts that assailed
her. She could, at times, scarcely realize
even yet the complete change that had come
over her life-the catastrophe which had so
suddenly cast blightupon her happiness, and
turned all her delight into ashes. She re-
membered the security which she had felt,
when replying to the warnings and doleful
prophecies of her aunt; how she had rejected,
with mingled amusement and scorn, the ad-
vice which had been given her how proudly
she had asserted her faith in her lover, and
her willingness to trust her fate without re-
serve in his hands. And now those prophe-
cies had, in measure, come true, and her own
boasted security been shaken by storm more
terrible in its effects than even Mrs. Penn
broke could have anticipated. Bereft of her
safeguard, absolutely beyond the pale of civil
ization, and out of reach of all help, what
picture of her future life, though drawn by a
prejudiced hand, could have exceeded the
forlornness of its reality?


And yet, in spite of all this, her faith in
her husband was unshaken still. She remem-
bered the question be had once asked her
esther, will you trust me always as you do
now, no matter what happens-no matter
what misfortunes darken our life, as they
must come sometimes into the happiest life =
And her answer, given then in the full conf
dence of hope and love, echoed again in her
heart-"Yes, always" She had given her
promise, and she would not break it; she
would never break it, even if this cloud OF
suspense went with her to her grave. Moth
ing but the most absolute, convincing proof
of her husbands alleged treachery-scarely
anything short of his own confession OF it
would make her ever creditit. "What would
nv love be worth, if could not trust You r
she had asked him in chose long-ago days
how very, very far off they seemed to her
now!-and it was this holy, supreme trust
that sustained her, and robbed her affiiction
of its sbarpest sting. Raymond might well
,gloried, could he have known it, in the
mightiness of faith that even trial like
this could not quench-the love that only
burned with q brighter fame in the cold blast
of adversely.


Esther decided to wait until a twelvemontf
had elapsed since Raymond's disappearance
and then to return east, as by that time she
felt that it would be hopeless longer to cher
ish any idea of his still being alive.


In the meanwhile she had made up hel
mind to receive no more visits from Alasquez
but to decline seeing him should be seek he1
presence again. Accordingly, she directed
D:..;.1o ot ono tip,e that she became aware