e shown myself worthy
of her. But now there is an end of that. I will go as you bid me but
before I go I will tell you the truth. You wish to use Jane's beauty to
catch this Jew with. Of her happiness you think nothing, provided only
you can secure his money. She is not a strong character, and it is quite
possible that you will succeed in your plot, but I tell you it will not
prosper. You, who owe everything to our family, now when trouble has
overtaken us, turn upon me and rob me of the only good that was left to
me. By putting an end to a connection of which everybody knew, you stamp
me still deeper into the mire. So be it, but of this I am sure, that
such conduct will meet with a due reward, and that a time will come
when you will bitterly regret the way in which you have dealt with your
daughter and treated me in my misfortunes. Good-bye."

And Leonard turned and left the room and the Rectory.

CHAPTER II

THE SWEARING OF THE OATH

Arthur Beach, Jane's brother, was standing in the hall waiting to speak
to Leonard, but he passed without a word, closing the hall door behind
him. Outside snow was falling, though not fast enough to obscure the
light of the moon which shone through the belt of firs.

Leonard walked on down the drive till he neared the gate, when suddenly
he heard the muffled sound of feet pursuing him through the snow. He
turned with an exclamation, believing that the footsteps were those
of Arthur Beach, for at the moment he was in no mood for further
conversation with any male member of that family. As it chanced,
however, he found himself face to face not with Arthur, but with Jane
herself, who perhaps had never looked more beautiful than she did at
this moment in the snow and the moonlight. Indeed, whenever Leonard
thought of her in after-years, and that was often, there arose in
his mind a vision of a tall and lovely girl, her auburn hair slightly
powdered over with the falling flakes, her breast heaving with emotion,
and her wide grey eyes gazing piteously upon him.

"Oh! Leonard," she said nervously, "why do you go without saying
good-bye to me?"

He looked at her awhile before he answered, for something in his heart
told him that this was the last sight which he should win of his love
for many a year, and therefore his eyes dwelt upon her as we gaze upon
one whom the grave is about to hide from us for ever.

At last he spoke, and his words were practical enough.

"You should not ha