e, he was unhappy until her return; she had
become the one idea of his thoughts--the spirit of his fancies; he
watched her fair fingers as they glided on the harp--his hand shook
when he touched them, and more than once he half raised it to untie
the thick veil which hid her features from him.

But, while such feelings passed through his mind, others of a kindred
character had crept into the bosom of Fanny, and she sighed when she
thought that, in a few weeks, she would see him no more, that even her
face he might not see, and that her name he must never know; and fears
for her father's safety mingled with the feelings which the stranger
had awakened in her bosom. She had beheld the anxiety that glowed in
his dark eyes--she had listened to his impassioned words--she felt
their influence: but duty forbade her to acknowledge that she felt it.

Eight weeks had passed; the wounds of Augustus were nearly healed; his
health was restored, and his strength returned, and Harry said that in
another week he might depart; but the announcement gave no joy to him
to whom it was addressed. His confinement had been robbed of its
solitariness, it had become as a dream in which he delighted, and he
could have asked but permission to gaze upon the face of his
companion, to endure it for ever. About an hour after he received this
intelligence, Fanny entered the apartment. He rose to meet her--he
took her hand, and they sat down together. But her harp lay
untouched--she spoke little--he thought she sighed, and he, too, was
silent.

"Lady," said he, anxiously, still holding her hand in his, "I know not
where I am, nor by whom I am surrounded--this only I know, that you,
with an angel's care, have watched over me, that you have restored me
to health, and rendered confinement more grateful than liberty; but,
in a few days, we must part--part, perhaps, for ever; then, before I
go, grant me but one request--let me look upon the face of her whose
remembrance will dwell in my heart as its dearest thought, while the
pulse of life throbs within it."

"I must not, I dare not," said Fanny, and she paused and sighed; "'tis
not worth looking on," she added.

"Nay, dearest," continued he, "deny me not--it is a small request.
Fear nothing--never shall danger fall upon any connected with you
through me. I will swear to you----"

"Swear not!" interrupted Fanny--"I dare not!--no!--no!" and she again
sighed.

He pressed her hand more closely within h