eclaring my feelings
towards her before I go. She has spoken words to me that call for
all the response in a man's soul, and I go away with my mouth closed
like a clown."

"Tut, tut, Hughie! Now you are letting your vanity get the upperhand
of you. You are bemoaning yourself because you have not cut a better
figure in her eyes. But just one word for your cold comfort. There
never was a young girl in her position yet--bless all their lovely,
trusting hearts--who would not make a hero of the man she loved,
had he the garb of a Merry Andrew and the manners of a Calmuck.
Don't fash yourself over imaginary woes when you've real ones in
sight, plain enough, my poor boy. But now leave this profitless
heart-break and let us plan for the future."

Our talk lasted late into the night, and by daybreak I was on my
way to La Rochelle.

And now began the most miserable period of my life, the details of
which I have no intention of inflicting on my reader. A wretched
sea-voyage was a fitting introduction to my place of
banishment--Louisbourg, a pretentious and costly fortification,
but miserably situate and falling to decay for want of the most
necessary repair. There it was, shut in on the one hand by the
monotonous sea, wild and threatening with its ice, and snow, and
storm in winter, sad and depressing with its mournful fog in
summer--and on the other by an unbroken wilderness of rock and
firs--that I ate out my heart in bitterness year after year; my
only alleviation being the rare letters which I received from
Margaret, but which I scarce could answer, though my reticence only
brought forth a fuller expression of the unwavering affection of
her generous soul.

Dear as this indulgence in a cherished affection was to me, I
brought myself to renounce it, for I held I was bound to this for
more than one reason. Now that I had entirely broken with my past,
I recognised that perhaps I should have done so sooner. Was it not
folly to suppose that a girl such as Margaret would not follow her
generous fancy when propinquity was added to inclination? Alas!
that such admirable decisions are only so readily consented to when
the occasion for delinquency is no longer possible!

Then, too, my position towards Lady Jane was a delicate one. She
had clearly indicated to me her intentions as to the disposal of
her fortune. A hopeful or even a contented correspondence was
impossible to one in my situation, and to enter into any truthful
det