is
the last person to engage in an outrage of the kind. Doubtless
these letters, of which the youth has been the bearer, will explain
much that is now a mystery."

The laborious duty of the night being now ended, the gates were
once more fastened; and as the officers passed the lamp which hung
over the entrance of the commandant's quarters, Ronayne glanced at
the superscriptions of the two missives. The one was written in
ink, and directed to Mrs. Headley; the other in pencil, and addressed
to himself.

Ronayne was too impatient to know the contents of the letters to
waste further time in conversation. At the invitation of Captain
Headley, he entered and unfolded the note, while the commandant
sought the apartment of his wife.

Mrs. Headley had thrown herself towards morning on her bed, but
not to sleep; her mind was too full of apprehensions for the fast
coming future, and for the melancholy, sad past; and, even at the
moment when her husband entered, her thoughts were of the unfortunate
Mrs. Ronayne.

"From Maria! is it possible?" she exclaimed, as she broke the seal.
"Whence comes this? who brought it?"

"What think you of Wau-nan-gee!" he answered,
significantly--"Wau-nan-gee, who saved within the hour her husband's
life!"

"Then, by my soul, is she innocent!" exclaimed the generous woman,
rising up. "Almighty God, I thank thee. Oh, how rashly have we
judged; but let me read. The document is dated from this, the night
before her departure; it is the same, no doubt, she should have
inclosed before--not a word in addition. I will read it later.
Where is Ronayne?"

"In the next room. He, too, has received a communication, which he
is now reading. You had better go in to him, while I give some
directions to Elmsley, which require to be attended to immediately.
I shall rejoin you presently."

CHAPTER XVII.

When Mrs. Headley entered, unannounced, into the apartment where
the Virginian was sitting, he brushed his hand across his eyes,
but now they wept not only the emotion of grief that he betrayed,
but of joy, of pride, of the fulness of life. He rose, pressed her
hand warmly, and, giving her Maria's note to read, took the letter
which she proffered in return.

"Ah! Ronayne," began the first, "what language can express my
feelings--my fears--my agony. For the last week I have not seemed
to live a human existence. My mind has been all chaos and confusion.
I have been feverish, excited, scarcely cons