By Berwen Banks

"What is the meaning of this? I have heard of your shame, of your

dishonour--of the disgraceful way in which you have entrapped my poor

boy. But what is this farce enacted here? How dare you enter the

House of God and forge this ridiculous statement? Where is my son,

whom you have lured to destruction?"

Valmai was shaken like a reed by this sudden and unexpected meeting,

and the outburst of feeling exhibited by the "Vicare du" awoke in her

own heart such a tumult of doubt and suspense, that she could no longer

restrain the tears which for days she had kept in check; long, silent

sobs heaved her bosom, she covered her face with her hands, and the

tears trickled through her fingers, but she made no answer.

"Speak, girl," said the Vicar, "have you nothing to say for yourself?

no excuse to make for your conduct? My son and I lived in perfect

happiness together until you came to this neighbourhood; now you have

led a young man on to his ruin and broken the heart of an old man--for

this," he said, tapping the register with a trembling finger, "this is

a lie--a forgery--a foolish piece of deceit, not worth the paper on

which it is written!"

Still Valmai spoke not a word. Oh, what happiness it would have been

to throw herself at the old man's feet, and to confess everything,

here, where Cardo and she had plighted their troth--to have told him of

her ignorance of his fate, of her distracted longing for his return.

Surely, surely he would have forgiven her! She was torn with

conflicting feelings. But, no! Had she borne the contempt and scorn

of all her acquaintances and friends to break down now, and disclose

her secret to the man of all others from whom Cardo desired to keep the

knowledge of it? No, she would die rather than divulge it--and with an

earnest prayer for strength she remained silent, for in silence alone

she had taken refuge since her troubles had come upon her.

"Speak, girl, I implore you! Tell me, is this true?" His voice

trembled, and he came a step nearer to her. "Tell me that it is true,

and I will forgive you and him, for I shall then have a hope that his

love for you will bring him home, though he has no love for me." And

completely overcome by his feeling's he dropped on his knees by the

table, and, leaning his head on his arms, broke into a torrent of

tears. "Oh, Cardo, Cardo, my boy!" he cried. "Come back to me."

There was no answer from Valmai, and when he raised his head again she

was gone. At the words, "Oh! Cardo, Cardo," she had fled down the

aisle, out into the golden sunshine, down the rugged path to the shore,

where behind a huge boulder she flung herself down on the sands, crying

out in a long pent-up agony of tears, "Oh Cardo, Cardo, come back!"