it.
In the course of a few months I had earned a sum--dearer, more valuable
to me than all I have since acquired. It was insignificant in itself,
but it purchased for my Sebastian his long wished-for treasure--the
horse and water-cart. I took it to him; and when I approached him, I had
not a word to say, for my grateful heart was in my throat strangling my
utterance. He threw his arms about my neck, cried, laughed, thanked,
scolded, blessed, and reproached me, all in the wildness and delirium of
his delight. 'Why did you do it?' said he, 'oh it was kind and loving
in you!--very kind and foolish--and wrong, and generous, and
extravagant--dear, good, naughty boy! I am very angry with you; but I
love you for it dearly. How you are getting on! I knew you would. I said
so from the first. You will do wonders--you will be rich at last. You
want no man's help--you have done it all yourself.'

"'No, Sebastian!' I exclaimed, 'you have done it for me.'

"'Don't deceive me--don't flatter me,' he answered. 'I have been able to
do very little for you--not half what I wished. You would have been
great without me. I have looked upon you, and loved you as my own boy,
and all that was selfishness.'

"We dined and spent the evening of the day together. Life has had no
hours like those before or since. They were real, fresh,
substantial--such as youth remembers vividly when death and suffering
have shaken the foundations of the world, and covered the past with
mistiness and cloud. The excitement of the time, or the privations of
former years--or I know not what--threw the good Sebastian shortly after
this day upon a bed of sickness. He never rose from it again. He was not
rewarded as he should have been for all his sacrifices--for all the love
he had expended upon his grateful foster-child. He did not live to
witness my success--he did not see the completion of the work he had
begun. In spite of all my efforts to save his precious life, he sank,
and drew his latest breath in these devoted arms. I lost more than a
father."

The baron paused, his lips were borne down by a tremulous motion: he
took my arm, and urged me gently from the spot. We walked for some
distance in silence. Collecting himself again, he proceeded:--

"Sebastian, as I have told you, was a pious man. In truth, his faith was
boundless. He worshipped and adored the Virgin Mary as he would have
loved his own natural mother, had he known her. He was aware of my
unbelief,