to bend
down his head to hear, the novice replied, that if messengers had been
despatched to the village, his errand was sufficiently accomplished.
Father Ambrose had merely charged him to say that the real murderer
had himself confessed his crime, and that the sin had been incited,
by such a horrible train of secret guilt, that all particulars were
deferred till they could be imparted to the authorities of justice,
and by them to the sovereigns themselves. For himself he only asked
permission to return to the village with Perez, and rejoin his
guardian, Father Ambrose, as soon as his Grace would please to dismiss
him.

"Thou must not--shalt not--return without my poor thanks, my young
preserver," exclaimed Stanley, with emotion. "Had it not been for
exertions which have well nigh exhausted thee, exertions as gratuitous
as noble--for what am I to thee?--my honor might have been saved
indeed, but my life would have paid a felon's forfeit. Would that I
could serve thee--thou shouldst not find me ungrateful! Give me thine
hand, at least, as pledge that shouldst thou ever need me--if not for
thyself, for others--thou wilt seek me without scruple."

The boy laid his hand on Stanley's without hesitation, but without
speaking; he merely raised his heavy eyes a moment to his face, and
vainly did Stanley endeavor to account for the thrill which shot
through his heart so suddenly as almost to take away his breath, as he
felt the soft touch of that little hand and met that momentary glance.

Who has not felt the extraordinary power of a tone--a look--a touch?
which,

"Touching th' electric chain, wherewith we are darkly bound,"

fills the heart and mind with irresistible impulses, engrossing
thoughts, and startling memories, all defined and united, and yet
lasting for so brief a moment that we are scarcely able to realize
their existence ere they are gone--and so completely, that we perplex
ourselves again and again with the vain effort to recall their subject
or their meaning. And so it was with Stanley. The thrill passed and
he could not even trace its origin or flitting thought; he only saw a
Benedictine novice before him; he only felt regret that there was no
apparent means with which he could evince his gratitude.

On Father Francis offering to take charge of the boy, till his
strength was sufficiently renovated to permit his safe return to the
village, Isabella spoke, for the first time:--

"Reverend Father! We wi