s evidence of suffering, he made haste
to exclaim:

"Poor Honora! My heart owes her one cry of pity, one tear of grief. I
shall never weep for any one else; though, if I could, it would be for
myself and the wasted years with which I have mocked God's providence."

Relieved to find him in this mood, I rose and shook his hand cordially.

"You will come back to Albany with me?" I entreated. "We have need of
you, and this spot will never be a home to you again."

"Never!"

The echo was unexpected, but welcome. I led the way out of the cave.

"See! it is late," I urged.

He shook his head and cast one prolonged look around him.

"What do I not leave behind me here? Love, grief, dreams. And to what
do I go forward? Can you tell me? Has the future in it anything for a
man like me?"

"It has vengeance!"

He gave a short cry.

"In which she is involved. Talk to me not of that! And yet," he
presently added, "what it is my duty to do, I shall do. It is all that
is left to me now. But I will do nothing for vengeance. That would be to
make a slave of myself again."

I had no answer for this, and therefore gave none. Instead I shouted to
my guide, and after receiving from him such refreshments as my weary
condition demanded, I gave notice that I was ready to descend, and asked
the recluse if he was ready to accompany me.

He signified an instant acquiescence, and before the sun had quite
finished its course in the west we found ourselves at the foot of the
mountains. As civilization broke upon us Mr. Felt drew himself up, and
began to question me about the changes which the revolution had made in
our noble country.

. . . . .

I will not weary you, my dear Mrs. Truax, with the formalities which
followed upon our return to Albany. I will merely add that you may
expect a duly authorized person to come to you presently for such
testimony in this matter as it may be in your power to give; after which
a suitable person will proceed to France with such papers as may lead to
the delivering up of these guilty persons to the United States
authorities; in which case justice must follow, and your inn will be
avenged for the most hideous crime which has ever been perpetrated
within our borders.

Most respectfully,
ANTHONY TAMWORTH.

PART III.

RETRIBUTION.

CHAPTER XVII.

STRANGE GUESTS.

SEPTEMBER 29, 1791.

Two excitements to-day. First, the appearance at my doors of