-witness whom I have
named?"

"No; for, as far as I can see into that cloudy and inscrutable thing, my
heart, it has none but pure motives," replied Miriam. "But, my friend,
you little know what a weak or what a strong creature a woman is! I
fear not Heaven, in this case, at least, but--shall I confess it? I
am greatly in dread of Donatello. Once he shuddered at my touch. If he
shudder once again, or frown, I die!"

Kenyon could not but marvel at the subjection into which this proud and
self-dependent woman had willfully flung herself, hanging her life upon
the chance of an angry or favorable regard from a person who, a little
while before, had seemed the plaything of a moment. But, in Miriam's
eyes, Donatello was always, thenceforth, invested with the tragic
dignity of their hour of crime; and, furthermore, the keen and deep
insight, with which her love endowed her, enabled her to know him
far better than he could be known by ordinary observation. Beyond all
question, since she loved him so, there was a force in Donatello worthy
of her respect and love.

"You see my weakness," said Miriam, flinging out her hands, as a person
does when a defect is acknowledged, and beyond remedy. "What I need,
now, is an opportunity to show my strength."

"It has occurred to me," Kenyon remarked, "that the time is come when
it may be desirable to remove Donatello from the complete seclusion in
which he buries himself. He has struggled long enough with one idea.
He now needs a variety of thought, which cannot be otherwise so readily
supplied to him, as through the medium of a variety of scenes. His mind
is awakened, now; his heart, though full of pain, is no longer benumbed.
They should have food and solace. If he linger here much longer, I fear
that he may sink back into a lethargy. The extreme excitability, which
circumstances have imparted to his moral system, has its dangers and
its advantages; it being one of the dangers, that an obdurate scar may
supervene upon its very tenderness. Solitude has done what it could for
him; now, for a while, let him be enticed into the outer world."

"What is your plan, then?" asked Miriam.

"Simply," replied Kenyon, "to persuade Donatello to be my companion in
a ramble among these hills and valleys. The little adventures and
vicissitudes of travel will do him infinite good. After his recent
profound experience, he will re-create the world by the new eyes with
which he will regard it. He will