but not so loud
as to keep me from locating the sound. Yes, it came from a little house
used as a summer bower. Instantly my mind was made up. I had no patience
to consider whether my determination was wise or foolish. I madly
dreamed that Naomi was near crying for my help. Else why should I hear
my own name, or why should I think it was the voice of my love?

In another second I had leapt from the tree, and then ran along by the
wall until I came close to the place where the bower had been placed.

I listened again. Yes, I heard sobs--sobs which came from a breaking
heart!

The wall was, as I said, from fifteen to twenty feet high, but this did
not deter me. I caught hold of an ivy branch, and by its aid sought to
climb, but at the first pull I had torn it away. So there was nothing
for me but to stick my fingers into the masonry and climb as best I
could. How I managed I know not, but in a few seconds I had accomplished
my purpose.

"Naomi!" I whispered, but I heard no answer.

I waited a few seconds and spoke again: "Naomi, my love," I said, "it is
Jasper."

At that I heard a movement from within the bower, and then I saw some
one come into the garden. It was a woman. I saw her look eagerly around,
like one afraid. Then her face was turned toward me. It was my love!

"Naomi," I said, "do not be afraid; it is Jasper--Jasper Pennington
comes to set you free."

Then she saw me and gave a glad cry.

"Jasper, Jasper!" she cried; "not dead!"

[Illustration: "'JASPER, JASPER!' SHE CRIED."]

A few seconds later I had descended and stood in the garden, my heart
swelling with joy until it seemed too large for my bosom. I came close
to her, and then my confidence departed. All my old doubts came back to
me. Joyful as I was at the thought that she was alive, I could not
believe that she cared for me. How could she when I was so unworthy?

The moon shone brightly on the garden, while the rimy frost, reflecting
its light, dispelled the darkness, and thus I was able to see the face
of my love and the flash of her eyes. I seemed close to the gates of
heaven, and yet I felt as though they were closed against me.

I stood still. "Naomi," I said, "forgive me. You know who I am--Jasper
Pennington."

Then she came toward me, and I heard her sobbing again. Then I, anxious
not to frighten her, went on talking.

"Naomi," I continued, "you are in trouble, and I fear that you have
enemies. I have tried to make you feel my