like violets, tinging the white lids
that covered them. Masses of rich chestnut hair were gathered back from
the face; and over the bosom, struck cold in the bloom of life, two
white hands were folded in an attitude of solemn prayerfulness.

As Mellen gazed on this cold vision his lips grew white with terrible
emotions, for he knew that face, notwithstanding all the changes that
years and an awful death had left upon it. Moment after moment crept by
and he did not move. At last, reaching forth his hand, he touched the
woman's hair, then a convulsion of grief swept over him, his eyes
filled, his lips quivered and he fell upon his knees crying out:

"Oh, woman, woman, has he driven you to this?"

The stillness, which was his only answer, crept to his heart. He arose,
covered the face of his false love, and quitted the room, leaving the
candle behind. He could not bear to think of her lying alone in that
grim darkness.

"Oh, sir, I am so sorry. It was dreadful to let you go upstairs to dress
and find _that_," cried the woman, in a tumult of self-reproach.

"When did it happen?" he questioned, in a hoarse voice. "When and how?"

"Day before yesterday. It was washed ashore from the wreck."

Mellen turned away and asked no more questions. Enough for him that the
woman he had once loved to idolatry, had passed out of his life forever
and ever.

CHAPTER XXIV.

HOME IN A STORM.

The storm was still raging upon the ocean and sweeping its cold way
across the island; but Mellen was not a man to rest within sight of his
own dwelling, after a long absence, without an effort to reach it in
defiance of wind or weather. So, heedless of all protestations, he
mounted his horse and rode forward, with the wind howling around him and
the rain beating in his face. His temporary attendant grumbled a little
at the violence of the storm, while the darkness was so intense that
both the horses went stumbling on their way like blind creatures on an
unknown path. But Mellen scarcely heeded the danger or discomfort. His
eyes were fixed on the lights of his own home, which twinkled now and
then through the fog and rain, like stars striving to break through a
cloud.

Their road ran along the coast, and they had the rushing winds and roar
of the ocean all the way. Before they reached the Piney Cove grounds the
blackness of the tempest began to break away overhead; the wind had
lulled a little, but the rain still beat, and at interv