seeking in the sophistry and casuistry of philosophy to justify his
selfishness, were the thoughts of his noble victim! Too brave to fear
death, yet too truly great not to feel in all its solemnity the grave
importance of the hour; with a soul formed for the enjoyment of this
world, yet fully prepared to encounter the awful mysteries of another,
the heart of Thomas Hansford beat calmly and healthfully, unappalled by
the certainty that on the morrow it would beat no more. He was seated on
a rude cot, in the room which was prepared for his brief confinement,
reading his Bible. The proud man, who relying on his own strength had
braved many dangers, and whose cheek had never blanched from fear of an
earthly adversary, was not ashamed in this, his hour of great need, to
seek consolation and support from Him who alone could conduct him
through the dark valley of the shadow of death.

The passage which he read was one of the sublime strains of the rapt
Isaiah, and never had the promise seemed sweeter and dearer to his soul
than now, when he could so fully appropriate it to himself.

"Fear not for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by my name; thou
art mine.

"When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through
the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the
fire thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.

"For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour."

As he read and believed the blessed assurance contained in the sacred
promise, he learned to feel that death was indeed but the threshold to a
purer world. So absorbed was he in the contemplation of this sublime
theme, that he did not hear the door open, and it was some time before
he looked up and saw Alfred Bernard and Virginia Temple, who had quietly
entered the room.

Virginia's resolution entirely gave way, and violently trembling from
head to foot, her hands and brow as white and cold as marble, she well
nigh sank under the sickening effect of her agony. For all this she did
not weep. There are wounds which never indicate their existence by
outward bleeding, and such are esteemed most dangerous. 'Tis thus with
the spirit-wounds which despair inflicts upon its victim. Nature yields
not to the soul the sad relief of tears, but falling in bitter drops
they petrify and crush the sad heart, which they fail to relieve.

Hansford, too, was much moved, but with a greater control of his