nd sound.

'How long have you learned to disobey me? Lift the old disgraced man
down, sir, and leave to die in the right place--on the battlefield where
his general sent him.'

The girl sank down on the road in an agony of weeping. 'I must help
myself, I see,' said her father, dropping to the ground. 'Authority
vanishes before old age and humiliation. Victoria! has your father no
sins to answer for already, that you will send before his God with your
blood too upon his head?'

Still the girl sat weeping on the ground; while Raphael, utterly at his
wits end, tried hard to persuade himself that it was no concern of his.

'I am at the service of either or of both, for life or death; only be so
good as to settle it quickly.... Hell! here it is settled for us, with a
vengeance!'

And as he spoke, the tramp and jingle of horsemen rang along the lane,
approaching rapidly.

In an instant Victoria had sprung to her feet--weakness and pain had
vanished.

'There is one chance--one chance for him! Lift over the bank, sir! Lift
over, while I run forward and meet them. My death will delay them long
enough for you to save him!'

'Death?' cried Raphael, seizing her by the arm. 'If that were all--'

'God will protect His own,' answered she calmly, laying her finger
on her lips; and then breaking from his grasp in the strength of her
heroism, vanished into the night.

Her father tried to follow her, but fell on his face, groaning. Raphael
lifted him, strove to drag up the steep bank: but his knees knocked
together; a faint sweat seemed to melt every limb.... There was a pause,
which secured ages long.... Nearer and nearer came the trampling.... A
sudden gleam of the moon revealed Victoria standing with outspread arms,
right before the horses' heads. A heavenly glory seemed to bathe her
from head to foot.... or was it tears sparkling in his own eyes?....
Then the grate and jar of the horse-hoofs on the road, as they pulled up
suddenly.... He turned his face away and shut his eyes....

'What are you?' thundered a voice.

'Victoria, the daughter of Majoricus the Prefect.'

The voice was low, but yet so clear and calm, that every syllable rang
through Aben-Ezra's tingling ears....

A shout--a shriek--the confused murmur of many voices.... He looked up,
in spite of himself-a horseman had sprung to the ground, and clasped
Victoria in his arms. The human heart of flesh, asleep for many a year,
leaped into mad life within his b