e a heart
Yet warm to pity her you swore to love,
Read it--and think of those dear promises--
O sacred as the Savior's promises--
You whispered in my ear that solemn night
Beneath the pines, and kissed away my tears.
And know that I forgive, beloved Paul:
Meet me in heaven. God will not frown upon
The sin that saves me from a greater sin,
And sends my soul to Him. Farewell--Farewell.'"

Here he broke down. Unto his pallid lips
I held a flask of wine. He sipped the wine
And closed his eyes in silence for a time,
Resuming thus:

"You see the wicked plot.
We both were victims of a crafty scheme
To break our hearts asunder. Forgery
Had done its work and pride had aided it.
The spurious letter was a cruel one--
Casting her off with utter heartlessness,
And boasting of a later, dearer love,
And begging her to burn the _billets-doux_
A moon-struck boy had sent her ere he found
That pretty girls were plenty in the world.

"Think you my soul was roiled with anger?--No;--
God's hand was on my head. A keen remorse
Gnawed at my heart. O false and fatal pride
That blinded me, else I had seen the plot
Ere all was lost--else I had saved a life
To me most precious of all lives on earth--
Yea, dearer then than any soul in heaven!
False pride--the ruin of unnumbered souls--
Thou art the serpent ever tempting me;
God, chastening me, has bruised thy serpent head.
O faithful heart in silence suffering--
True unto death to one she could but count
A perjured villain, cheated as she was!
Captain, I prayed--'twas all that I could do.
God heard my prayer, and with a solemn heart,
Bearing the letters in my hand, I went
To ask a favor of the man who crushed
And cursed my life--to look upon her face--
Only to look on her dear face once more.

"I rung the bell--a servant bade me in.
I waited long. At last the father came--
All pale and suffering. I could see remorse
Was gnawing at his heart; as I arose
He trembled like a culprit on the drop.
'O, sir,' he said, 'whatever be your quest,
I pray you leave me with my dead to-day;
I cannot look on any living face
Till her dead face is gone forevermore.'

"'And who hath done this cruel thing?' I said.
'Explain,' he faltered. 'Pray _you_, sir, explain!'
I said, and thrust the letters in his hand.
And as he sat in silence reading hers,
I saw the pangs of conscience on his face;
I saw him tremble like a stricken soul;
And then a tear-drop fell upon his hand;
And there