"O sir! it is very, very true! I do think of you; and I am sure I shall
do so as long as I live.

"Lilian Holt."

On the reverse side of the page I had penned, or rather pencilled, a
response. Not then, but in an idle hour by the way: with the
presentiment, that it might some time reach the hands of her for whom it
was intended. In those hands I was now determined to place it--leaving
the issue to the cipher itself. The answer ran thus:

To Lilian.

"As music sweet, thy gentle lay
Hath found an echo in my heart;
At morn, at eve, by night, by day,
'Tis never from my thoughts apart:
I hear the strain in every breeze
That blows o'er flower, and leaf, and tree;
Low murmuring, the birds and bees
All seem to sing--I think of thee!

"Perhaps, of me no more a thought
Lingers within thy bosom blest:
For time and absence both are fraught
With danger to the lover's rest?
O Lilian! if thy gentlest breath
Should whisper that sad truth to me,
My heart would soon be cold in death--
Though dying, still 'twould think of thee!"

"Edward Warfield, _The Indian Hunter_."

The words at the moment added were those appended to my own name--which
I had introduced to aid in the recognition. However inappropriate might
be the scheme for making myself known, I had no time to conceive any
other. The interruption caused by the mulatta had hindered me from a
verbal declaration, which otherwise I might have made; and there was no
longer an opportunity for the periphrasis of speech. Even a word might
betray me. Under this apprehension, I resolved to remain silent; and
watch for the occasion when I might effect the secret conveyance of the
paper.

As the young girl drew near, I stepped towards her--pointing to my lips,
and making sign that I wished to drink. The action did not alarm her.
On the contrary, she stopped; and, smiling kindly on the thirsty savage,
offered the can--raising it up before her. I took the vessel in my
hands, holding the little billet conspicuous between my stained fingers.
Conspicuous only to her: for from all other eyes the can concealed it--
even from those of the bizarre _duenna_, who had faced round and was
still standing near. Not a word escaped me, as I pretended to drink. I
only nodded towards the paper as I raised the vessel to my lips.

Ah! that weird instinct of a woman's heart--a woman who loves! How
pleasant to watch its subt