Yet the time had passed with
lightning rapidity, for the canon in giving us some of the experiences
of his long life, and in telling us many legends of Zaragoza, had
engaged our whole interest and attention.

When Juanita had handed us coffee, and left the charming old silver
coffee-pot steaming upon the table dispensing its aromatic fumes, she
made us collectively a court-curtsey at the door and withdrew.

Then came our opportunity, and we related to the canon our previous
day's adventure, with all its sadness and its apparently hopeless
element. He listened with earnest attention and sympathy.

"The world is full of these instances," he cried with a profound sigh,
when we had ended. "Do you wonder at my frugal living when I hear of
these wrecked lives? I have seen so much of this terrible vice. I know
how hard it is to conquer, how seldom the victory is gained. It requires
daily care on the part of one stronger than the tempted, and too often
even that fails. But who is this frail creature? She must and shall be
rescued if human aid, under divine help, can avail. For heaven will not
always save us in spite of ourselves. 'My Spirit shall not always strive
with men.'"

Her name and domestic history had been withheld to the last. We now
explained who she was, who her father had been, his position under
Government, his sudden death from grief. and we gave him her card, which
bore both her married and her maiden name--the latter written in pencil:
Eugenie de Colmar.

The canon quite started as we spoke it, and threw himself back in his
chair.

"Is it possible!" he cried. "Is it possible! But life is full of these
coincidences. Verily the Divine hand holds the threads of the world's
human actions; and what we call coincidences are the silent drawing
together of these threads for ordained purposes. De Colmar was my
intimate friend, though many years my junior. He would come and spend a
week at a time with me here, but his visits were not frequent. I knew
little of his wife, still less of his child, whom I saw but once when
she was about ten years old. I was told of his death; had heard of a
tragedy; but the full details I now learn for the first time. It is one
of the saddest stories I ever listened to. For the sake of the father I
must make every effort to save the child. It will be a hard task, but
only needing the more courage. To-morrow I will seek her out. She must
be taken from this unwholesome life and exciteme