troubled to decide which he liked best.

"Both are beautiful," he thought. "Ere long I must wed, and which of the
twain shall it be? Both are beautiful, and both are good; but,
unfortunately, they are two, and I am one."

The child, who had lingered behind to pluck a wild flower, at this
moment came running after them, calling:

"Wait! wait! I implore you, wait for me!"

"What have you seen, Alice?"

"A black woman."

The girls were almost ready to faint; but Charles, who was above
superstition, bade them be calm and hurried through the deepening shades
of twilight to the trees on the hill where the woman had been seen. He
came in sight of the figure of a woman clothed in black, sitting at the
root of an oak.

"Who are you?" he asked, advancing toward her.

"Charles Stevens!" she gasped, raising her head.

"Sarah Williams, what are you doing here?"

"Prythee, what are you doing?" she asked.

"This is unaccountable."

She rose and, turning her white face to him, said:

"Charles Stevens, which of the twain do you love best?" and she pointed
to Cora and Adelpha. He made no answer. "Which of the twain is it?" she
repeated. "Aye, Charles Stevens, you shall never wed either. Do you
hear?"

[Illustration: "Which of the twain shall it be?"]

"Woman, what mean you?"

"You cannot decide which you love most. Wed neither, Charles. Wed me!"

"You!" he cried, in astonishment.

"Yes, why not?"

"You already have a husband."

"No; he is dead, he was lost at sea. I am still young and fair, and
wherefore not choose me?"

Charles Stevens burst into a laugh, half merriment and half disgust, and
turned from the bold, scheming woman. She followed him for a few paces,
saying in tones low but deep:

"Verily, Charles Stevens, you scorn me; but I will yet make you repent
that you ever treated my love with contempt. You shall rue this day."

He hurried away from the annoyance, treating her threats lightly, and
little dreaming that they would be fulfilled.

Winter came and passed, and Adelpha Leisler still lingered at Salem.
Rumors of trouble came to her ears from home; but the light-hearted girl
gave them little thought. One morning in May, 1691, Charles met her
coming to seek him. Her face was deathly white, and her frame trembling.

"What has happened, Adelpha?"

"There is trouble at home, Charles," she cried. "Father and Milborne
have been arrested and imprisoned and I fear it will fare hard with
them. I wan