 CHAPTER I A young girl about eighteen, with a slender elegant form, beautiful straight features, and eyes of softest darkness, sitting before a large table covered with maps and drawings, which she was trying to vainly study. It is no use, she cried at last, pushing back the mass of thick black hair falling over her white brow. I shall never be able to get India by heart, unless I can see the places. I wish Papa would let us go reconnoitering amongst the ruined temples and other mysterious buildings. It is so annoying staying here day after day, never seeing anything outside the palace. My dear Leonore, said her companion, a young man scarcely older than herself, and wonderfully like her. What new idea have you got now? An idea of seeing more of the curious places I have read so much about, fancy living a lifetime in a country and never going beyond one town. If I do not get some excitement I shall die of ennui, so I warn you. I quite agree with you, and if uncle would only let us, it would be delightful, seeking out the temple so long deserted. But you know he would not, shrugging his shoulders. I am not so sure of that. Papa never refuses me anything, and when he sees it is necessary to my happiness I should go he will consent. Anyhow, I will try, jumping eagerly to her feet. Come, Leon! Her cousin rose, and took the white, outstretched hand. Then like two children they crossed the beautiful marble hall, until, arriving before a door draped with rich curtains, Leonor paused and softly knocked. Come in, rather impatiently. With a smile Leonor opened the door, and entered, followed by Pantaleon. In the room, handsomely fitted up as a study, sat a fine-looking middle-aged man, busily writing, his dark face wore an expression of severity as he glanced toward the intruders. It quickly faded, however, on seeing the pretty figure standing there. With a gentle smile wreathed his lips. Well, Leonor, dearest, what is it? Papa and the girl stole, noiselessly, behind his chair, winding her arms around his neck. I am so miserable, I have nothing to amuse me, and unless you do something to make me happier I shall go melancholy mad. My dearest child, what is the matter? Are you ill? Anxiously turning to peer into the lovely face. No, papa, but I am so tired of this life. That is not like my little girl, and I have tried hard to make you happy. Nothing in reason I have refused you, jewels such as a queen-mide envy, priceless stuffs to deck your pretty form, and other things which no girl of your age ever possessed reproachfully. Leonor bent down and kissed his brow lovingly, repentingly. You have been a great deal too good to me, but there is something more I wish to ask. It will make me happy if you grant my request. We shall see. Tell me first what it is. Leonor briefly related her wish to visit the old temple which lay beyond Goa, to search with Pantaleon the curious old ruins she had often read of in her studies. Don Garthia looked grave. Evidently this project did not find much favor in his eyes. A Portuguese by birth, but sent to Goa as viceroy, Don Garthia de Sa had lived there long enough to know the treacherous nature of the Brahmins who dwelt near, and feared to let his child run the risk of being found and captured. But as Leonor had truly remarked, he loved his daughter so passionately that he very rarely refused her anything, even though he doubted the wisdom of complying with her wishes. Papa, the sweet voice, was very coaxing, and the red lips close to his cheek, say yes, darling, it will make me so happy. But suppose any danger should threaten you. I should be there to defend my cousin with my life, Leon cried, fervently. Don Garthia smiled. You speak bravely, my boy, but as yet you are very young. However, as Leonor has set her heart upon this expedition, I suppose I must say yes. In case of danger I will send some soldiers to escort you. Oh, thank you, Papa, I am so glad. Come, Leon, we will make haste. So as to set off ere the day gets more advanced. And warmly embracing her father, the girl sped swiftly away, followed by her cousin. In half an hour the cortege was ready, and after some little hesitation on Don Garthia's part they started. Leonor, with her two favorite maids, Lali and Tala, were causally seated on a palanquin carried by four strong men. Over clearing her path from all difficulties went a body of twenty-five soldiers. Beside her, Panteleon kept up a cheerful conversation, pointing out the beauties of the palaces through which they passed. Some twenty natives, armed with poignards, brought up the rear. Toki, a native who had grown old in the Viceroy's palace, led the way toward one of the ruined temples. That erected to Shiva the god of destruction. More gazed with odd eyes at the magnificent palace, still bearing traces of former beauty. How wonderful! I must stay here, Leon, and sketch those old statues. We need go no farther. The day was beginning to get intensely hot, so the men were nothing low to seat shelter in the cool temple, to sleep away the sunny hours. Sketchbook in hand the girl chose a shady retreat outside, and was soon lost in her work. Presently the dreamy silence was broken. Faint cries from afar ahead reached her, and looking hastily up, Leonor saw a sight which made her stand rooted to this spot in speechless horror. In the distance, pouring out from the mountains, were a multitude of Indians clad in diverse costumes, carrying in their hands fantastic idols, and followed by a train of Brahmins, singing a low, monotonous chant which had warned the girl of their approach. Recovering her self-possession, and calling to the startled servants, Leonor entered the temple, where Pantaleon and the men were quietly dozing. Leon, awake! The Indians are coming. The youth sprang to his feet, and flinging one arm around his cousin, he drew a sharp poignard from his sash, and clutched it, firmly. Do not be afraid, Leonor, I will guard you with my life, he said bravely. But is there no way to escape, Leonor asked wildly, frightened at the peril into which her folly had brought them all? We might have gone, but it is too late. They are here, Toki said gravely. The only thing we can do is to hide amongst these broken statues, and perhaps we may be safe from their view. Scarcely had this been done, then the procession arrived, stopped before the temple, and the men commenced building a huge square pile of wood. And on this they placed a beer, on which lay the corpse of an old man, decked with silks and costly jewels. Leonor and Pantaleon, watching from their hiding-place the strange preparations, now saw a girl, very young and beautiful, but weeping bitterly, being dragged toward the pile by a tall, hard-looking woman. Come, she cried, in loud ringing tones, now is the time to uphold the honour of your family and show your courage. With a shudder the girl drew back, and, clasping her hands piteously together, said, Why should I thus sacrifice my young life to the cruelty of your customs? I cannot endure the thought of being burnt alive. It is too horrible. It is your duty. A woman must follow her husband in death, coldly. The young widow burst into passionate weeping, and gave an agonised glance around at the vindictive faces. Not one among that multitude, she thought, felt pity for the girl who was condemned to so horrible a fate. CHAPTER ONE PART II She was mistaken, and a second gaze revealed a young boy, not more than fifteen, who was quietly sobbing, an expression of deep anguish on his face. Satsavan, my poor brother, you have also come to witness my painful end. The boy went toward her, and wound his arms around her slim waist, drawing the dark head onto his shoulder. I would that I could help you, he whispered, but what can I do among all these fiends? It is hard to die thus so hard. Savita, I am more compassionate than you think, and I have here a draft which will send you into a deep sleep. The pain of death will thus be saved you. Conmia broke severely, holding a vessel toward the girl. No, no, Savita shrieked, pushing the potent drink away. I cannot! Think how awful to awaken with the cruel flames wreathing round my body, and my cries for help useless, deadened by the yells of those people. I cannot! I will not die! Satsavan, deathly white and with quivering features, drew her shuttering frame closer to him and led her into the temple. Leave us for a moment, I implore you, he said, turning to his aunt. She loves me, and I may perhaps reconcile her to her fate. You are the head of your family. I trust you to bring her to reason, to save the honour of a name until now without blemish. Conmia replied, and placing the poisonous flask in Satsavan's hand, she left them alone in the temple. Quick, Savita, we will drink this draft together, and when they seek you they will find us both cold in death. You also, my brothers, speak of death. I must escape. I cannot sacrifice my life. Nor shall you, a gentle voice broke in passionately, and Leonore, her face full of tender compassion, stood before the victim, pantalione beside her. Follow me, the latter said briefly, drawing the girl's arm through his. Trust us, and you will yet be saved. With joyful hearts the two Indians accompanied their kind protectors, climbing among the broken gods, higher and higher until they at last arrived without the temple, the other side from where the Indians were assembled. There they were rejoined by the soldiers and attendants, and the little party commenced their homeward journey, hoping the wild group would not discover their presence. But their hopes were not to be realized ere they had gone many yards the flight of the Rajah's widow had been discovered, and with hideous cries they sought eagerly to find her. It was not ere long they aspired the small party, and full of triumph dashed toward them. Leonore, keep back. Leave me to deal with these barbarians, pantalione said hurriedly, and in a minute a deadly fight broke out between the Indians and the soldiers. But what was their strength against more than five hundred strong warriors? Ere long the brave party was captured, and while Khamia dragged the terrified girl towards the funeral pyre, the Indians shrieked aloud in triumphant gladness. Tomorrow Shiva will receive a sacrifice that will remain forever in the memory of those now living. Today our chief's widow, to-morrow the Portuguese prisoners. After his daughter had gone, Don García was filled with deep regret at having succumbed so readily to her wishes. A presentiment of evil he could not control made him walk restlessly up and down the room. A timid knock at the door roused him from his painful musings. Come in, he cried quickly. The door opened, and a tall, remarkably handsome man, dressed in the garb of a sea-captain, entered. What! Falcom! Is it you, my boy? The Don cried gladly, wringing the young man's hand. Yes, senior, I have some papers from Tanza. There has been a slight rising at due, but fortunately we were able to suppress it in time, handing the Don a sealed packet. After casting his eyes rapidly over the contents, Don García smiled and turned with a pleasant look towards the captain. Manuel tells me of your bravery in saving Diu, and asks me to promote you. I will do all I can. I am proud to call you friend. Luis flushed, and a bashful light filled his eyes, but ere he could answer the Don continued. However, you have come in time to be of service to me. My daughter, much against my wishes, has gone on an expedition to the temple of Shiva. From what I have since heard I am afraid danger threatens my Leonor. Will you help me to rescue her? Will I lay down my life to keep her from harm? Oh, senior, how could you ask? Let me start immediately, and ere long I will bring your child back in safety, fervently. Don García was surprised at the young man's eagerness, but refrained from speaking, only to thank him for his kind offer. A few minutes later Luis Falcom, accompanied by a troop of brave sailors, started off towards the temple of Shiva. As he neared, sounds of strife mingled with heart-rending shrieks broke upon his ears. Urging his trusty band, he dashed onward until he arrived at the scene of terror. Startled by the sudden apparition, the Indians lost for a time their self-control, and the sailors found it easy to subdue them. These had flown at once to Leonor's side, clasping her frail form tightly in his arms, while Pantaleon wrenched Savita from her aunt, as she was about to fling her on the now-burning pyre. Even at the same moment, Satzavan, a smile of revengeful triumph on his face, wound a thick scarf over Conmia's head, and threw her with murmursless force into the flames, leaving her to meet the fate destined for his sister. Those Indians who had not been taken had fled, so the band was free to wend its way homeward, though nearly half had been killed in the strife. Still holding Leonor, now weeping quietly in his arms, Louise led the way towards the road, where the Palanquin stood, and placing the girl gently in, raised her white hands passionately to his lips. Leonor, Leonor, my own darling, he murmured, gazing into her pallid face with lovelet eyes, if I had been too late and found you gone. Leonor smiled tremulously through her tears, and a blush mantled to her cheeks. You have saved my life. I can never repay you, earnestly. Pantaleon, still pale and anxious, now appeared leading the little widow, who seemed overjoyed at her release. She sank down gladly beside Leonor, and then the Palanquin was born away, guarded by Louise and Pantaleon, Satsivan walking behind. Don Garthea's delight knew no bounds when he saw the procession entering the palace gates, and he ran eagerly to receive his daughter. My beloved child, how unwise I was to let you go, to send you into danger, he cried, carrying her in his arms from the Palanquin to the Marble Hall. If it had not been for our young friend Falcom, I should never have seen you again. But Papa, think! If we had not gone, this poor girl would have been burnt to death, Leonor said, shudderingly, drawing Savita towards her. Ah, yes, poor child, stroking the young widow's glossy black hair. Now, tell me all about it. Not yet, Papa, let us go and arrange our dresses. Mine is torn completely to pieces, laughingly holding up a fragment of cashmere, which in the struggle had become torn. Among Savita's hand in hers Leonor went swiftly to her rooms, where they could bathe their weary limbs in cool water and change their tattered robes. Don Garthia was sitting in his study, regarding with some anxiety Louise Falcom, who, tall and handsome, stood before him. You wish to ask me something, is it not so? Well speak out, and be sure if it is in my power I will grant it. I hardly like to ask. It is I know daring. I am but a captain, and you are one of the wealthiest men in India, yet I love your daughter, and that is what I wish to tell you, earnestly. Don Garthia smiled indulgently, and he gazed kindly at the young fellow's flushed face. I told you I would give you what you wished, and I will not break my word. I could safely trust Leonor to you. No other man I know has won so large a place in my esteem. But I dare not speak until I know what my daughter thinks. She will answer for herself touching so delicate a subject. Tell Don yeah Leonor to come here, he said to Toki. After what seemed an anxious age to poor Louise, Leonor entered, leaning lightly on Savitre somewhat astonished. Leonor, may I speak before Savitre, the Don asked gravely? Of course, papa, I have no secrets from her. My child, drawing her nearer to him, Louise Falcom has asked your hand in marriage. What answer shall I give him? Leonor blushed divinely, and her dark eyes shyly drooped before the eager glance from those loving blue ones fixed upon her. He saved my life, father. I will gladly give it to him, she murmured. You love him, child. Dearly, I shall be proud and happy to become the wife of Louise. Gaining courage. You have my answer, Falcom. May you be content always. I give her to you with pleasure. In spite of the Don's presence and Savitre's, Louise could not refrain from drawing the girl into his arms and pressing fervent kisses on her smooth brow and soft cheeks. You shall never repent your choice, darling, he said tenderly. I cannot give you wealth, but a true heart and a brave hand are solely yours, now until death. I know, Louise, dear, and to me that gift is more precious than the costlyest jewels, the girl whispered fondly. Their happiness was not without its clouds. Louise was compelled to leave his betroth to guard a fort some distance away. I will return soon, dearest, he said lovingly, holding the trembling girl in his strong arms, and then your father has promised our marriage shall take place. And you will not run into danger, for my sake, Leonore pleaded, winding her white arms around his neck. Think how desolate I should be without you. Don Garthea, having a great liking for the young man, saw him go with some regret. Don't stay away longer than you can help, he said kindly. I'll keep you, my boy. So Louise parted from his love, and returned to Dieu, carrying in his heart a cherished memory of Leonore, and a tiny miniature of her in his breast pocket. When he arrived at the Governor's palace he went directly to Manuel Tonza to inform him of his departure. The Governor, a tall, dark-looking man of more than thirty, bore on his fine features a look of haughty sternness, mingled with some cruelty. He glanced coldly at the young captain, and listened in silence to his explanations. But as Louise drew from his breast a sealed packet, given him by Don Garthea, Leonore's miniature fell with a crash to the ground, the jeweled case flying open. Manuel picked it up from the floor with a sudden swiftness, and gazed admiringly at the pictured face. Who is this, he asked abruptly. Leonore de Sa, Don Garthea's daughter. Leonore de Sa, and so beautiful as this, the Governor muttered inaudibly, I forgot she had grown from a child to a woman. I must see her. How comes it, though, her miniature is in his hands? Surely they could not have betrothed her to a captain. With a gesture of disdain he flung the miniature on the table, and told Louise his presence was no longer needed. Once alone, and a singular smile, crossed the Governor's face. I must pay Don Garthea a visit. It is long since I saw him. I never dreamt his little daughter had grown up so lovely. Thank heaven I am rich. My jewels and wealth might tempt a queen. I need not fear refusal from a viceroy's daughter. Full of complacent contentment, Tonsa made hasty preparations for leaving Diu, and that same evening saw him a welcome guest of Don Garthea. He was charmed with Leonore. In spite of himself, a deep, passionate love wakened in his heart for her, and he determined to win her for his wife. First he wished to gain Don Garthea over to his side, so took an early opportunity of speaking to him on the subject. The viceroy listened in grave silence, and a look of regret stole into his eyes. I am sorry, he said gently, why have you come too late? My child is already betrothed. To whom, hoarsely? Louise Falcom. But he is only a captain and poor. Surely you would not sacrifice your child to him. Think what riches I could lay at her feet, as my wife, Leonore, would be one of the most envied of women. I know, and I wish now I had not been so hasty. But Louise saved her life, won my gratitude, then, as the price of his act, asked Leonore's hand. I was forced to consent, as I had said I would give him whatever he asked, with a sigh. A promise gained like that is not binding. It was taking an unfair advantage of your gratitude. I do not like to break my promise, but I will do what I can for you. I will ask Leonore, and if she cares for you more than for Louise, she shall wed you. Thank you, and I will try hard to gain her love, menwell answered hopefully. When Leonore heard the subject of the conference between her father and Tansa, her indignation was unbounded. How can you act so dishonorably, papa? She cried angrily, after betrothing me to Louise. Now because Tansa is rich and wishes to marry me, you would break your word. But my dear, think how different manwell is to falcom. He can give you a beautiful home and jewels such as a queen might envy, while the captain can give you nothing. He can give me a brave, loving heart, which is worth all the world to me. No, while Louise lives, I will be true to him. No other shall steal my love from him, firmly. Is that the answer I am to give to Tansa? Yes. Thank him from the great honor he has done me, but as I cannot marry two men, I choose the one I love, who first won my hand and saved my life. When manwell heard her answer he was filled with rage and hate. So, so, he muttered, a sinister look creeping over his face. She will not wed me while falcom lives. But should he die, what then? To Leonore he was always gentle, trying by soft words and many little attentions to win her regard, a very difficult task. Since her father's conversation she shrank as much as possible from him, hoping he would understand her studied coldness. Savita, she said one evening, as they were dressing for a ball given in her honor, that horrid man's attentions are becoming intolerable. He will not see how I detest him, and I am bound by love and promise to another. I wish Louise was here. He has been away so long. I am tired of Tanza's persistence and papa's reproaches. Never mind, dearest. All will be well when your brave lover returns. Perhaps he may be even now on the way. I am sure if he knew how terribly you were persecuted he would fly to you at once, Savita whispered softly. I feel miserable, unhappy. Lolly, put away those robes and give me a plain black dress. During Louise's absence I will put on mourning, so Tanza can read the sorrow I feel in my heart. But dear, what will your father say, Savita asked anxiously. He will be angry, I know. But it is partly his fault I am obliged to act thus. In a few minutes Lolly and Tala had silently arrayed their young mistress in trailing black robes, which clung softly to her beautiful form. No jewelry relieved the somberness of her dress. Her dark hair, thick and long, fell like a veil over her shoulders, adding to the mournfulness of her guard by its dusky waves. Below in the handsome marble hall stood Don Garthia and Tanza, both watching with suppressed impatience the richly hung staircase leading to Leonor's apartments. It is late. I hope nothing has occurred, Manuel said anxiously, drawing the velvet curtain aside to gaze across the hall. Even as he did so, Leonor, leaning lightly on Satsivan's shoulder, appeared. Her graceful head held proudly erect, an expression of supreme indifference on her face. Both men started with an exclamation of alarm, rage on Manuel's part. What, in mourning and for a ball? Manuel gasped with rising passion. Leonor, what does this farce mean? Why have you disguised yourself? How dare you disobey me when I said so particularly I wished you to appear at your best. I have been too weakly indulgent with you, and now you take advantage of my tenderness to disgrace me by showing my guest your foolish infatuation for a man to whom I now wish I had never promised your hand. Leonor lifted her reproachful eyes to his, her pale face even wider in contrast with her sombre dress, full of resolute rebellion. CHAPTER II. I am not ungrateful, papa, for your kindness, but I will never forget the promise I gave Luis. My heart is not to be bought for gold. I gave it willingly to the man to whom you betrothed me. Your father, none of our family have ever acted dishonorably, so I am sure you will not be the first to break your word. Do not be too sure of that, Leonor. I am more than half inclined to make you acceptanza and forget your vows were ever plighted to that pauper captain. You could not be so hard knowing how my happiness is bound up in him. I will never, while Luis lives, give my hand to another. Thank you, Leonor. Our Will Falcom let you, a deep voice broken suddenly, and Luis, his face flushed with mingled pleasure and disgust, came toward her, followed by his bosom friend, Denise Sampaio, a young and rich noble. Leonor threw herself into his arms with a glad cry, while Don García and Manuel, full of rage, stole away, leaving the lovers alone. My darling, then I heard truly when they said my own dear love was being forced to wed another. Thank heaven I left you at once, and came to you, as your father seems inclined to listen to Manuel's suit, Luis said tenderly, bending to kiss the pale face. I am so glad you have come, Luis. I felt so lonely without you near me to give me hope and courage. My poor little one! But why these robes, Leonor? I thought it was a day of festival at the palace. I know, but I was determined, during your absence, to keep Tansa from paying me his odious attentions by putting on mourning. He could not fail to see where my thoughts were. Now you have returned, I will throw them aside, and show them it is a time of rejoicing with me. Wait, Luis! With a tender smile the young lover enclasped her slender form and let her glides slip away. But not long did he wait. Soon the curtains were again lifted, and Leonor, radiant as a bright star in trailing robes of white and gold. Tansa's flashing on her bare arms and round her delicate throat came towards him. My queen, my own dear love, what should I do if they took you from me, passionately pressing her hands to his lips? They will never do that, Luis. I am determined not to allow Tansa to win my father over to his way of thinking. Manuel Tansa watched the happy lovers with bitterest hate gnawing at his heart, deadly schemes against his fortunate rival flitting through his subtle brain. Late that night, when the weary guests were parting, Tansa stole noiselessly from the palace, and when he returned, in less than half an hour, his face wore an expression of fiendish triumph and delight. He was even polite to Luis, much to that young man's surprise, though he doubted the sincerity of Manuel's words. Happy and content, after a tender adieu to Leonor, the captain left the viceroy's palace to seek his own apartments. Not far had he gone, however, when a shadow stole silently behind him, and the next moment he felt himself suddenly grasped by powerful hands and flung to the ground. Almost stunned by the fall he was yet able to see the dark face bending over him. From the shadows came another form, one he recognized. A gleaming poignard was placed in the assassin's hand, which descended ere he could break from that strong hold and was buried deep in his heart. Guiltily two forms glided away in opposite directions, leaving Luis, pale and cold, lying in a stream of blood, dead. It was still early when Leonor awoke, but in spite of the drowsiness overpowering her, she hastily arose, and calling her maids, bad them quickly arrange her toilette. I am restless, and cannot stay longer indoors. I wish to be out in the fresh air, she explained to Savitur, who entered soon after. Guiltily, however, had they arrived without the palace gates, then Denise Sampaio, his face pale and haggard, eyes full of fear and anguish came hastily to her side. Donya Leonor, return to your father's house. I have something to tell you which I dare not breathe here. It is too horrible. Prepare yourself for a great shock, my poor child. I wish someone else had brought the awful tidings, he cried hoarsely. Leonor stood perfectly still, and her eyes grew wide and her face blanched with awakened fear. Clasping her hands piteously together, she said, Tell me now, I am brave. I can bear anything. Is it Luis? Is he ill? In danger? Oh, Denise, for pity's sake, tell me. Denise took the trembling hands in his, and quietly bidding the others to follow, led her silently through the town, until they arrived at the house where Luis had taken rooms with his friend. Perhaps at his best you should see him. Poor Luis, how can I break the awful truth to you? You're betrothed, the man you loved is dead, murdered by a cowardly hand on his way home from your father's palace. Leonor grew deathly pale. Dead, she repeated, clasping her hands despairingly to her throbbing brow. It cannot be true. My darling, dead, murdered. My poor child, it is only too true. This morning he was found and brought home, stabbed through the heart. But who could have done it? Savita asked in a low, hushed whisper. I wish I knew, but alas, that is a mystery. Leonor gazed helplessly from one to the other, then breaking from her friend's gentle hold staggered forward. Where are you going, Leonor? Denise asked anxiously. To him I must see for myself the terrible truth. Can you bear it? Yes, oh yes. Very tenderly Denise took one of the trembling hands in his, and led her toward a darkened chamber, where, on the blue-draped bed lay the still form of his young friend. A convulsive shutter shook Leonor's slender frame as she gazed on those handsome features set in death's awful calm, the closed eyes which would never look into her own again, the cold lips which would never breathe loving words into her ear, or press her brow in fond affection. She could not weep, as Savita wept. Tears refused to ease the burning pain at her heart. Only a low moan broke from her as she threw herself suddenly over that loved body. My love, my darling, why did I ever let you leave me? How can I live without you? Hush, Leonor! Come! You can do nothing here. But one thing I promise you, I will avenge his death at any cost. The murderer will be found and punished, no matter who it is! Denise cried earnestly. Thank you, and if I can aid, rely on my help, Leonor murmured bravely. Then bending over reverently to press a last kiss on the pallid brow, she allowed Denise to lead her from the room to her own home. In the hall they were met by Don Garthea in a terrible state of anxiety for his daughter. Where have you been, Leonor? What is the matter? You look ill! And what is that? Pointing to a vivid red stain which marred the white purity of her dress. A low, delirious laugh broke from the girl's pale lips, and stretching out her arms she waved Don Garthea back. Do not touch me! She cried hoarsely. He, my love, my darling, is dead. See his life-blood stains my hands, my robe. O heavens, that I should have lived to know such agony! She stopped. The outstretched arms fell inertly down. The graceful head drooped, and without one cry or moan, Leonor fell heavily to the ground, unconscious. Explain, Savita, Sampayo, what means this strange raving? Who is dead? Don Garthea said, fearfully. It means that Luis Falcom was found murdered this morning. Your daughter went to see him for the last time, and returns overcome with grief and sorrow. Without a word, but very white, the viceroy carried his child to her room, and left her in the care of Savita and her two attendants, while he went to find the particulars of Falcom's tragic end. For days and weeks Leonor kept to her rooms, seeing no one except her father in Sampayo, whom she looked upon as the Avenger of Luis. Long and tenderly was her lover's memory sorrowed over, until the once beautiful girl was but a mere wraith. A few weeks later Don Garthea himself was taken ill, and one day, feeling slightly better, he sent for his daughter to whom he wished to speak on important business. He was not kept long waiting. Leonor soon appeared, looking like a crushed flower in her somber robes. You wish to see me, papa? Yes, Leonor, but you can almost guess for what. You know how much I desire to see you wedded to my friend, a man who loves you and will make you happy. I shall not live long, of that I feel sure. Manuel Tanza has waited patiently, and I think it is only right you give him hope. Today you will accept his hand, and in another week, with my consent, you will become his wife. Leonor reeled against the bed, and held firmly to the silken curtains to prevent herself falling. Do you mean this, father, his wife, when he murdered Louise? What nonsense are you saying, child? Do not let me hear you speak like this again. What motive could a wealthy man like Tanza have in getting rid of one of his own employees? Grief has turned your brain. Cast aside those weird garments, and in three hours be ready to receive your future husband. A low, gasping cry fell on his ears as he finished speaking, and he turned in time to see the slight figure sway to and fro, then fall heavily to the ground. But what use was her feeble strength against the two powerful wills of two determined men? Air the day was over, Leonor, with a heart full of bitter, despairing grief for Louise, was bound by a sacred promise to a man whom she knew to be both bad and selfish, whom she hated. CHAPTER III. In one of the many straggling streets, almost hidden behind a few large shops of curious build, stood a small boutique full of ancient relics and jeweled brick-a-brack. Inside seated by the counter, riding in a large ledger, was an old man whose hooked nose and piercing eyes proclaimed him at once to be from the tribe of Israel. This Jew, Feeney, was not alone. Flitting about the shop, arranging the antique curiosities, was a young and very beautiful girl, with delicate features and lustrous black eyes. Can I help you, grandfather? The girl asked, suddenly stopping before the desk, and cleaning both dimpled arms on the dusky book. No, no, Miriam, I have almost finished. Leave me for a few moments quiet. Miriam sank gently on a high chair, and drooping her head pensively on her hand, sat for some time in unbroken silence, gazing out through the open door at the motley crowds passing by. Suddenly a dusky form, clad in the garb of a fisherman, entered and drawing near Feeney, glanced nervously around. I wish to sell that. How much will you give me for it, laying a jeweled poignard with a golden chain attached on the desk? Feeney took it up and examined it attentively, then loathe surgingly at the man. Satisfied at his scrutiny, the Jew named a very low price, one which his customer had some hesitation in accepting, but at last, seeing Feeney was obdurate, he took the offered money and glided off like a specter. What a curious poignard and how pretty, Miriam said, lifting it from the scales where Feeney had placed it. I am surprised he took so little for it. I'm not. One can't offer too little for stolen goods. Do you think this is stolen? I am sure it is. That man never came by it, honestly. Scarcely had the poignard been put on one side when two young men, handsomely dressed, entered the shop and asked for some emeralds. While you are choosing, I will have a look round at all these curiosities, Miguel, the youngest of the men remarked. As you like, I shan't belong, Denise. Some Pio nodded and commenced his search, turning over every object that took his fancy, aided by Miriam. I will show you something very curious, a poignard strangely fashioned, the girl said, drawing the weapon her grandfather had just bought from its hiding place. Denise took it up and examined it attentively, then a low cry broke from his lips and his face grew pale. Where did you get this? I have just bought it. It is a very pretty toy for a gentleman. Feeny broke in persuasively. With an almost eager haste, Denise barkened for the poignard, and at last managed to bring the Jew down to ten times the sum he had given the fisherman. After his friend, Miguel Rial, had chosen the jewels he wanted, Denise hurried him away. Not many hours later, as the young Jewess sat alone, her grandfather having gone some distance off on business, she was startled by some Pio suddenly reappearing, a look of intense anxiety on his face. Senora, he said politely, drawing from his breast the poignard, can you tell me from whom your father bought this? I do not know his name, but I believe he is a fisherman and lives in Yonder Village, Miriam answered simply. Should you know him again? I pardon my asking, but it is very important I should discover the owner of this weapon. By doing so I may be able to bring a murderer to meet his doom and avenge the death of my best friend. Miriam gazed at him compassionately, a serious light in her dark eyes. I will help you, she said suddenly, moved as it were by a strange impulse. I have long wished for occupation, some useful work, though I should have liked something less terrible than helping to trace a murderer. Well I will aid you if I can. Thank you, but if he never came here again? I shall not wait for that. Tomorrow I will visit those huts in which the fishermen dwell. I may then find the man who sold the poignard, or at least a clue to the mystery. Denise took one of the small hands in his and pressed it reverently to his lips. You will not go alone, I will be your companion. Together we shall work better. But your father, will he consent to your accompanying me? My grandfather loves me too dearly, and trusts me too fully to refuse me anything. He need not know the errand upon which I am bent, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. After making all necessary arrangements for the next day, some Pio left the Jewess to wait impatiently until the hour arrived for him to start on his melancholy errand. It was still early when he left the crowded streets to walk quickly in the direction of a small fishing village, some distance off. Both way he saw the tall, graceful figure of a young girl, whose long veil of soft, silky gauze hid her face from passersby. He recognized her at once. It was the beautiful Jewess. So hastening his steps he soon stood before her. Senora, he said gently. The girl started, turned, then smiled through the screening folds of gray. Is it you? I was afraid you would not come, in a relieved tone. I am too anxious to find that man, to lose the chance you have so kindly given me. I only hope I am not putting you to any inconvenience, Denise said galantly. Not at all. I am only too happy to be of some use, earnestly. For many hours they wandered about from house to house, Miriam having armed herself with a large sum of money, hoping by acts of charity to gain access into the poor dwellings. They were almost despairing of finding a clue to the whereabouts of the fishermen, when three little children, poor and hungry-looking, playing outside a tiny hut, attracted Miriam's attention. Stooping, she spoke gently to the little things, and one from them the tale of their excessive poverty, which she promised to relieve if they would take her to their mother. This they willingly did, and Miriam found a pale, delicate-looking woman, who notwithstanding the ragginess of her dress, still bore traces of having been at one time different to a poor fisherman's wife. Reached by the soft tones of her mysterious visitor, the woman gradually unburdened her troubled heart by telling her the history of her wretched life, how she had been doomed to follow her husband and Indian chief to death, but loving life better she escaped with her little children, but would have died of hunger on the seashore if Jamira, her second husband, had not rescued her and offered her his name and home. He is very good to me and my children, the past seems but a dream now. If only we had money all would be well. Miriam, with a few gentle, consoling words, slipped a few bright coins into the tiny brown hands of the astonished babies. Then with a sigh she bade the grateful mother Adjou and went out to where Denise was waiting. He read by her face that she had no better tidings, and drawing her hand through his arm he turned away. "'Will it never come, the proof I want?' he said, half bitterly. Scarcely had the words left his lips when a glad cry of father rent the air, and three small forms bounded over the white shingle towards a tall man, dressed in white linen. Almost convulsively Miriam pressed Sampio's arm to arrest his hasty steps. "'We need go no farther,' she whispered. "'That is the man you want, and if he is that woman's husband his name is Jareema.' "'Thank heaven, to-morrow he will be arrested and the truth discovered,' Denise muttered. Silently they watched the man walk towards his humble home, the children clinging lovingly to his hands. The woman came forward with a bright smile, holding up her face to receive his caress. "'There can be no doubt. It is Jareema and the man who sold the poignard.' "'Louise's murderer,' Denise added, between his set teeth. Almost feverishly Sampio hurried Miriam away. He was anxious to tell Leonor of his success, and bring the assassin to justice. Some distance from the Jew's shop he bade Miriam adieu, promising to call and let her know the result. On reaching Don Garthea's palace, Denise was surprised at the sounds of bright music mingled with happy voices that floated on the air. Satsavan was the first to meet him, and he went forward with a welcoming smile. "'Where is Leonor?' Denise asked anxiously, glancing round the deserted halls. In the grounds, Don Garthea has his home full of guests in honor of his daughter's betrothal with Manuel Tonza. Or betrothed, and to him, in consternation, yes, sadly, her father has commanded her to accept him, and since she lost poor falcom she is indifferent whom she weds. But Tonza, above all other men, bitterly, with a dark shadow on his brow, Denise followed the young Indian into the spacious grounds, where Leonor, surrounded by many richly dressed ladies, was sitting. I cannot speak to her before all these people. Go, Satsavan, and bring her to me.' The youth darted off immediately and presently returned to the tree where Denise stood almost hidden by its shady branches, leading Leonor, whose face wore a look of some wonder. "'Denise, is it really you? Have you brought me any news?' she asked, eagerly. Sampayo took her outstretched hand and kissed it reverently. "'Yes,' he said softly. "'Good news. What is it? Tell me. I have discovered the man who, I think, struck the blow by instigation of the real murderer. Until he is taken I can do nothing further. But who is he? How did you find him?' He is of poor fisherman, named Jerema, and it was through a young Jewess, Finise's grandchild, to whom the poignard was sold, I found him. That was very good of her to help you. It was indeed. The whole morning she has searched with me for the man, and at last our labor was rewarded. Tomorrow Jerema will be under arrest.' As the words left his lips a sudden movement amongst the trees startled them. I am sure that was someone, Leonor cried, turning pale and clasping Denise's arms. Satsivan glided noiselessly away, but soon returned to say that no one had passed by. Possibly the noise was occasioned by the wind rustling through the leaves. Very likely, Leonor said quietly, though it made me nervous, suppose any one overheard us. Just assured, dear, that nothing now can come between me and my revenge. But, Leonor, is it true you are betrothed to Tansa? Yes, Denise. It is true. Papa has commanded me to accept him. I hate him, but now poor Louise is dead. I care not who becomes my husband, hopelessly. I wish it were other than Tansa, Leonor. I cannot trust him, nor will I believe but what he had a hand in Louise's death. That is what I think, but Papa says it is only fancy. Manuel is too upright to do such a treacherous thing. A silvery laugh broke suddenly on the silence which had fallen between them, and Savita, leaning lightly on Pantaleon's arm, stood before them. The Rajah's young widow made a strange contrast to Leonor, gay with rich colors. Judging from Pantaleon's ardent gaze, he at least saw some beauty in the dusky, changing face. What, Sampaio, I did not know you were here. The young man cried gladly, seizing Denise's hand in a warm grip. Have you brought good news? Yes, better than I expected, Denise answered, and briefly recounted the success which had attended his morning search. I do not wish to meet your father tonight, Leonor, until this business is settled. I could not enter into any amusement. First I will go to see Henrique Ferreira, the magistrate, and arrange with him about Jarema's capture. But you will come to-morrow. You will not, to tell me the result, Leonor asked, anxiously. Assuredly, unless anything serious prevents me. Thank you, she murmured gratefully. A kind hand-pressure from all, and Sampaio walked quickly away, while Leonor, her heart somewhat lightened by this news, returned to her father's guest with Satzavan. Savita would have followed, but Pantaleon held her back with a few whispered words, and nothing loathed the little widow sauntered with him through the shady grounds apart from the rest. Savita, Leon said suddenly, would you be willing to leave your country to go with me to Portugal? Savita gazed at him in some wonderment. Surely you are not thinking of leaving India, she cried, a sudden anxiety dawning in her dark eyes. Yes, my father wishes me to return, and as soon as Leonor is married we are going. The girl remained silent, only a few pearly tears rolled down her cheeks. Savita, dearest one, do not weep. Would it be so dreadful to you to quit the country? It is not that, with the stifled sob, but I had not thought of your leaving us, or the friendship between us being broken. Nor will it, my darling, don't you understand? I love you too dearly to give you up. I want you to be my wife, so that none can part us. Say my hopes are not all in vain. A vivid flush mantled the clear dark skin, and the lustrous eyes drooped in confusion. You really mean that? You love me, a girl who is not even of your own kind? I love you with all my heart and soul. Ever since the day when I drew you half-fainting from off the already-lighted pile, I have felt my affection growing deeper and deeper, until it has absorbed my whole being. My happiness is never complete unless I am near you. Tell me, darling, that you return my love. How could I help but love you, you who saved my life? O Leon, you cannot think how proud I am at being chosen by you before all others. With a joyous exclamation, Pantaleon drew her to his breast, pressing passionate kisses on her brow, cheeks, and lips, his heart thrilling with rapture at the realization of his dreams. CHAPTER IV. PART I. The next morning a small band of soldiers, headed by Enrique Ferreira, wound their way toward the humble home of Jarema. On arriving they found to their astonishment the door fastened to close, and no one to answer their knock. Never mind, break it down, Enrique said, roughly. In obedience a few heavy blows fell on the woodwork, which soon gave way beneath their force. Stepping over the scattered splinters, Enrique saw a sight which filled him with horror. Crouching on the bare floor, her hands twined convulsively in her long hair was a woman, with three sleeping children leaning against her. On a hard straw mattress, almost in shadow, lay Jarema, his face covered with blood, which oozed in streams from his mouth. Enrique gazed for an instant on the awful sight, then turned towards his men. We have arrived a little too late, blind men cannot see, or dumb ones tell tales. Some horrible wretch has done this deed, fearful of his betraying them. I wonder who. The woman when questioned could tell them nothing. She only knew her husband had been brought home in his present condition at daybreak, and remained unconscious since. I regret to say it is our painful duty to take him. Every care will be given him. He is suspected of having murdered Luis Falcom. No, no, you are mistaken. It is someone else, not he. Jarema was much too gentle to kill anyone. The woman cried passionately. Her prayers and supplications were unavailing. Enrique was obliged to do his duty, and bad his men take the suffering man to prison. Some hours later, as Denise stood in his room, just before setting out in search of Enrique, that man entered the house, followed by several soldiers. Denise Sampaio, I arrest you on the charge of having stolen a poignard set with jewels from Manuel Tonza de Sepulveda. Denise started and flushed angrily. I, steel, when you know it is the weapon I bought from Finae, the Jew, as proof against the murderer. So you said, but we have heard another tale to that. Anyhow, if you are innocent, you will be set free as soon as you are tried. But the man, Jarema, have you not been for him? Yes, but he is useless. When we arrived, someone had been before us, and not only blinded him, but cut out his tongue, so that he could not speak. How horrible! How could anyone have been so cold-blooded, Denise gasped, turning pale? Evidently it was done for some purpose. But come, Sampaio, I cannot wait here. Will nothing I say convince you I am innocent? If innocence gives strength, I shall soon be at liberty. Enrique smiled scornfully, and hurried the young man away. You will not be alone. Your prison cell is shared by another, Finae the Jew. An old friend of yours, is he not? Enrique asked. Friend? No! I have spoken to him once in my life. What is he arrested for? Being a receiver of stolen goods, grimly. Denise thought suddenly of Miriam, and wondered how she could bear this blow. Her only relative and dearly-loved parent torn from her side to linger in a damp cell. How bitterly he blamed himself for having been the cause of Finae's capture. If he had not disclosed the secret of Finae having bought the poignard from Jarema, no one would have suspected him. Poor girl! She will regret now having helped a stranger, who in return has brought her only grief and desolation, he murmured sorrowfully. Miriam passed nearly three days in sad thought, when her solitary mourning was broken by the visit of a thickly veiled woman, whose low sweet tones fell like softest music on Miriam's ear. Are you alone? She asked, glancing questioningly around the room. Yes, do you want me? I do very badly. I remembered only today that you once proved a true friend to Denise Sampaio, and I came to know if you would again aid him. Throwing back her veil and disclosing a pale sweet face stamped by deepest grief. Is Sampaio, but is he then in need of help in danger, a sudden fear lighting up her face? Yes, he is in prison, sadly. You are sure? How can it be possible? What has he done, in amazed wonder? He has done nothing. Only his enemies have thrown the suspicion of his having stolen a poignard from Manuel Tanza, a poignard which I know he bought here. It is my fault this has happened. It was to avenge the death of the man I loved, his dearest friend, that he placed his life in peril. I remember well. It is quite true he bought it here, soon after Jarema the fisherman had sold it to my grandfather. He poor dear is also in sorrow, imprisoned for having received stolen goods, as if he could tell when things are stolen, indignantly. I am very sorry, Miriam, but if you help me, you will help your grandfather also, Leonor urged, gently. I will, Miriam cried firmly, I will never give up until I have them both safely outside that odious prison. You are gazed with grateful affection at the girl's expressive face, which now wore such a look of determined courage. If I can do anything, let me know directly, Leonor said, gently. Gold may perhaps be useful, and I have much. Thank you, but I am rich, and I know grandfather would lose all, rather than his liberty. You are Don García's daughter, are you not? Yes, somewhat sadly, you know me? By sight, yes. I shall see you again, I hope, Leonor said, as Miriam followed her to the door. You will tell me of your success or failure? Yes, I will come or write. When her charming visitor had gone, Miriam returned to her seat, a pained expression on her bright face. He also there, poor Denise, but I will save him yet, determinately. Hastily opening a heavy iron box, she drew out a handful of gold. Placing this in her pocket, she softly left the house, and scarcely knowing what instinct prompted her, she hurried towards a small hotel not far from the sea. Can you tell me, she began breathlessly, to a sun-burnt man standing near, if there are any ships leaving here to-morrow? I don't know, senora. I will inquire, he answered politely, and after an absence of about ten minutes he returned to say, that Captain Maurice of the Eagle was even then preparing for departure on the morrow. Where does he live? Miriam said, eagerly. He is staying at this hotel at present. Do you think I could see him? It is very important. I daresay you can at least try, smilingly. The Jewess thanked her good-natured commissioner, and lightly ascended the steps. I wish to see Captain Maurice. Is he in? I think so, the man answered after one quick glance at Miriam. I will inquire. CHAPTER IV. Miriam waited with growing impatience until the men returned, and was relieved when she heard that the captain was not only there, but would see her. With wildly beating heart the girl followed her conductor to a large, perfectly furnished room, whereby a table scattered with papers set a tall, bronze semen. I believe you are leaving India tomorrow. Would you mind telling me where you are going? To Africa. A look of surprise crossing his face. Are you going to take passengers? That was not my intention. But if anyone asked you, would you refuse? I don't know. I did not want anyone on board, Maurice answered uneasily. If you knew it would do someone a great service, I am rich and would pay you well. So do not hesitate on that account. Is it you who wished to go? Miriam blushed and bit her lip angrily. She had not intended to betray her secret so soon. Yes, it is I and two other people. Will you take us and set us down on one of those small islands on the coast where no one would find us? Maurice hesitated, but he could not withstand the eager pleading in the slumberous eyes, the intense pathos in the sweet voice. Yes, he said at last, very slowly, I will take you on board, but you must be ready by to-morrow night. I cannot wait for stragglers, trying to force much severity into his tones. Oh, thank you, I am content now. Do not fear, we shall be in time. Until then, adieu," she said softly, and with a graceful bow she departed. Her next step was in the direction where Feeney was confined. She found no difficulty in finding the jailer, a hard-looking man enough, though Miriam thought she could see a gentle expression in his eyes when they rested on two young children, whose pale, wasted features gave evidence of close confinement in that dreary place. I may win him yet by those little ones, she murmured. Gold will have power to touch his heart for their sakes. You wish to see me, senora? Yes. I want you to answer a few questions. First, have you not got Feeney the Jew and Denise Sampio here? Yes, senora. Are they together? No, senora. Could it be possible for you to set them free without fear of detection? Eagerly. Yes, senora, but I am not a traitor. But think, Vincent, my poor grandfather has done no harm, and he will perish in that horrible place, though innocent. And the senor Sampio, as I have proof, brought the poignard himself from my grandfather. Why then should you say he stole it, indignantly? It is not I who accuse him. My duty here is to guard the prisoners, not to try them. Vincent, Miriam continued, in a low, pleading voice, you are poor. Your little children are pining for want of fresh, pure air. I am rich, and can give you enough money to live in comfort away from this close den. Release my friends, and the power of saving your children shall be yours. Look, drawing one of the wondering girls to her side, see how pale and thin she is. Then you refuse my offer, when the lives of those you love depend upon it? Vincent felt the truth of her words, and knew the only things he cherished on earth, those innocent children were slowly fading and pining away for want of fresh air. The man raised his head, and glanced earnestly at the moved expressive face. Then in a low, hoarse voice he muttered, be it so. I will help the prisoners to escape. I cannot see my little ones dying before my eyes, when an opportunity is given me to save them. Then to-morrow at sunset you will bring them to the golden lion. I will be there ready with the money. I will not fail, senora. May heaven forgive me if I am doing wrong. After a few instructions the happy girl went swiftly away, but ere she had moved far she returned and paused before Vincent. I forgot to ask you about that poor man, Jarema, she said gravely. He did not live long, senora, after he was brought here. And his wife, children? Of them I know nothing, he answered quietly. ere she continued her homeward way Miriam sped swiftly toward Jarema's poor home, and knocked gently at the door. It was opened by the eldest of the three children, and forcing a purse of money into his brown hand the girl whispered sweetly, for your mother, little one, from a friend, then moved silently away, hurrying homeward to await patiently for the long hours to pass ere her grandfather would be released. And true to his word gathered his few belongings together, and when the evening came went softly to the cells in which his prisoners lay, and setting them free told them to follow him. Wondering yet glad, Fini, leaning on Denise's arm for support, slowly obeyed the jailer, who, accompanied by his two children, led them toward the hotel Miriam had named. There sure enough the young Jewess was waiting, and after tenderly embracing Fini and smiling softly at Denise, she turned to Vincent and placed a bag of gold in his hand. This is your reward, may you and your little ones live in happiness, she said earnestly. We leave Goa to-night, senora. My life would be worth nothing if I stayed here after this. Goodbye, and thank you for your generosity. Miriam hastened her grandfather to the ship, shocked at his feebleness, but for some paio he would scarcely have been able to get there. Only once he spoke to the girl ere he retired to his cabin for the night. The money and jewels, Miriam, what have you done with them? They are here, grandfather. I brought everything of value away with me. That is right, child. You are a good girl. Miriam stood rather sadly beside the bulwarks, gazing at the land in which she had been born, and which she was now leaving forever. A low sigh broke from her lips. Why do you sigh? Are you sorry to quit your native land? A voice whispered in her ear. Yes, though for my grandfather's sake I cannot deeply regret it, Miriam answered, gazing at Denise with tear-dimmed eyes. I have not thanked you yet for having released me from that dreadful place, or even a worse doom. I am scarcely able to realize my good fortune. What made you, a stranger, think of one whom all others had forgotten? Not at all. It was Donya Leonore who told me where you were, and asked me to help you, Miriam said, blushing beneath his tender, grateful gaze. Besides, I looked upon you as a friend, almost inaudibly. That is what I want to be, your friend. And Leonore, how is she? Well? As well as it is possible to be under the heavy trial she went through this morning. She was married to Manuel Tunza, sadly. Poor girl. Poor Leonore. Hers is indeed an unhappy lot, Denise murmured pityingly. CHAPTER V PART I In a large, handsome room, overlooking a shining river, now ablaze with sunshine, sat a beautiful woman, wearing on her face unmistakable signs of sadness. She scarcely heeded the opening door, until two pretty children came bounding to her side, clambering on to her chair and lap. Then her face changed, and a sweet, tender smile chased away all gloom. The idle hands were now busy stroking the curly heads pressed so close to against her. I would have brought them to you before, but their father wished to keep them. He is always so happy when they are near. A little, dark-eyed woman, clad in picturesque robes of brilliant crimson and gold, said rapidly, as she threw herself down on a pile of soft cushions opposite the sweet, pale mother. Leonore sighed, but she could not look sad long with those loved children clasped in her arms. I cannot understand Manuel, she said, with a puzzled expression in her eyes. He is so strange, sometimes gay, almost too gay, then he relapses into a gloomy, brooding apathy, from which even the children have no power to rouse him. Which you have! He is never too morose to have a smile for you. I think sometimes he feels lonely. You are bound to him, yet your heart is as unresponsive to his passionate love as if you were strangers," Savitr said thoughtfully. Do you think so, Savitr? I am indeed sorry, but you know how impossible it is to forget my first love. I like Manuel, but beyond that, affection, except for my darlings, is dead, buried in Louise's grave. Hush, here comes Manuel, Savitr whispered, warningly. It was indeed Manuel, older and graver-looking than of your, with a deep melancholy in his eyes, brought there only by intense suffering. Savitr, on his entrance, softly glided from the room, leaving husband and wife alone. Leonore he began, a bright smile lighting up his face, as he bent to kiss her fair brow. I have been thinking, and I am resolved to quit India and return to Portugal. I have been here long enough. Don't you think that will be pleasant, dearest? Nothing would please me more, Leonore cried delightedly. The greatest wish of my life is to see Portugal once more, to show our country to our children, bending to kiss her tiny daughter's face. Then it will be granted. Prepare to start as soon as possible. Now I am determined to leave here. Something seems to urge me to go at once. Only too anxious Leonore began her arrangements. Savitr, who had never cared to leave her friend before, even to become Pantaleon's bride, entered into the preparations with unconcealed eagerness. She had faithfully promised her lover that, once in Portugal, she would, with his father's approval, marry him. Leonore felt no regret at leaving India, except for a loved grave, her father's, which she had so carefully tended. Not many days after, Manuel Tansa, his wife, children, Pantaleon and Savitr, accompanied by several faithful servants, including Lali and Tola, embarked in a fine, stately ship, which was to bear them in safety to their home. Tansa seemed full of joy as he saw the last lines of the Indian coast disappear. He had rarely appeared so happy since his marriage with Leonore five years before. For several days the good ship went steadily on her way, until one night a terrific storm arose, and the vessel, heedless of the human cargo it was bearing, drifted onward at the mercy of the tempest. Tansa, holding Leonore and his children closely to him, stood silently dismayed, scarcely able to realize the awful danger which lay before him and those he loved. Still onward, through the almost impenetrable darkness, went the doomed ship, until, as the dense shadows began to clear and the storm to cease, a sudden shock was felt by all. She had struck against some rocks and was slowly sinking. We must be somewhere near land, the captain cried, his voice sounding above the roaring waters. By aid of the fast-breaking dawn they could see the line of high, dark rocks upon which the ship had met her fate. With much difficulty in peril under the captain's cool directions, the crew managed at last to leave the sinking vessel, not without much loss of life. Out of nearly five hundred only a few arrived in safety, amongst whom were Tansa, his wife, children, Savita, and Panteleon. When the day broke in calm splendor the sun shone upon a mournful sight, a group of shipwrecked men and women. No sign of habitation met their view, only a weary waste of bare land, sheltered by a few trees, from whose branches hung a goodly supply of fruit. If we go further inland we are sure to find some natives, if only savages, Tansa remarked gravely, and followed by the men he commenced the long, weary way. Leonor, pale but firm, holding in her arms her little daughter, walked beside him, heedless of the fatigue which oppressed her and made her long to sink upon the sandy ground to rest. Onward they went, never pausing, to rest their tired feet until, as the day was about to decline, they came to a deep water-fall, over which they had to cross. No easy task, as the only means of doing so was by an uneven path, made from a line of rocks, on either side of which the boiling waters poured in terrific fury. Tansa, who, now the captain had perished, placed himself at the head of the crew, was the first to put his foot upon the crossing. Then, turning to the people, he said, Be careful, and not glance behind or down, or you will lose your balance and fall. Leonor, who, by her husband's wish, had given her child to one of the men, followed closely behind Menwell, who held his boy in his arms. Silently, without daring to murmur one word, the men walked bravely onward. They were nearly half way across. Menwell had indeed touched firm ground, when a sudden cry from her little girl made Leonor turn in a fright to see what ailed her. CHAPTER V. PART II. That move was fatal. The next instant she had lost her footing and fallen into the dashing torrent. With a despairing shriek, Menwell stopped, and, had not someone held him back, would have dashed in after his wife. Santa Leon, who saw a chance of saving her, quickly slipped over the side, caught her in his arms as she was about to sink, then bore her to land. Forgetful of all others, Menwell threw himself beside her still form, from which all life seemed to have fled, calling wildly on her name, pressing passionate kisses on her cold face, hoping by the warmth of his caresses to bring back the color to her cheeks. But it was useless. Menwell was dead, her head having struck against a rock, causing instant unconsciousness, from which they could not rouse her. When Tanza realized the awful truth he rose to his feet, pale and haggard, his eyes full of despairing anguish. It is just, my sin is punished, my wife the only thing I loved on earth for whose sake I committed crime is taken from me. She alone had power to make me happy. But her I cannot live. It is time I confessed all, and you shall be my judges. It was I who caused the death of Louise Falcom, that I might win his betrothed, and when I heard that Denise Sampaio had discovered partly the truth, I had him thrown into prison on suspicion of having stolen the very poignard with which Louise had met his death. The one that I myself had placed in the assassin's hand. You all know how he escaped, but he is in exile for my fault. If ever you should see him, tell him his innocence is established, he can return to India in peace. You have heard my story, now judge me. And with his arms crossed over his breast, his head bowed in deepest grief and humility, he awaited his sentence. A dead hush fell over the group, broken only by the suppressed sobs of Savitar, who was crouching beside Leonor, and the pitiful moans of the little girl dying in one of the rough seamen's arms. At last Pantaleon, a look of compassion on his face, went towards his friend, and laying his head on Tonsa's shoulder said gently, My cousin, you have sinned, but God has sent your punishment. That is sufficient. Live to devote your life to bringing up the little motherless children left to you. Restore Sampaio to his own again, then try, by true repentance, to atone for the wrong you did him. Sampaio then raised his head and glanced gratefully at Pantaleon, but his eyes were full of firm resolution none could understand. You are good, but my life is worth nothing now she is gone. See this poor babe will soon follow her mother. Garthea, I leave to you. He is too young to realize his loss, but never let him know his father's sin, he exclaimed hoarsely, and, after pressing his boy tightly to his breast, kissed the dying child, then softly lifting Leonore in his arms, he first pressed his lips reverently on her pale brow, and before anyone could prevent him or realize what he was about to do, he had sprang from the rock into the deep torrent, and disappeared with his precious burden from their view. A cry of horror burst from the lips of all present, and many efforts were made to try to find their bodies, but in vain. With saddened hearts the people turned away, and continued their journey, praying they might air long find help and shelter. Before the day had closed another soul had winged its flight to heaven, and the tiny waxen form of Leonore's baby girl left in its last resting place in the golden sand. A small wooden house surrounded by sweet-scented flowers of brightest hue, amongst which a beautiful, dark-eyed woman was softly gliding, culling large clusters of the delicate blossoms. As she stopped to gather a few rich carnations, singing in a low musical voice, a man, young and handsome, slipped from beneath the pretty porch, and walking noiselessly behind her, suddenly lifted her in his strong arms, pressing the slight form tenderly to his breast. Take care, Denise, she cried warningly, a ring of deepest joy thrilling her voice. You will spoil all my flowers. Except the fairest of all, yourself. Ah, Miriam, my darling! How happy we have been since that day when you so generously saved me from a felon's doom, rapturously kissing the beautiful dark face so near his own. Their bliss was broken by a crowd of brown-skinned people, moving toward the cottage, seemingly acting under some emotion. What has happened? What is it? Husband and wife cried simultaneously. We have seen a party of white men, doubtlessly shipwrecked on the coast, coming in this direction. They are even now in sight, one man said quickly. Denise flushed, and his eyes grew bright with suppressed joy. Perhaps some of our countrymen, Miriam, let us hasten forward to welcome them, he cried eagerly, and leading his wife while the crowd followed curiously behind, some pio hurried in the direction from once the strangers were coming. It was not long before they met the tired crew, now dwindled to about twenty, many having perished on the way. As Denise stepped towards the first stranger, on whose arm leaned a young and beautiful woman, a low cry burst from his lips. Pantaleon, he gasped, is it really you? What, Denise, and the two friends, separated for so long a time, warmly clasped hands. But how comes it that you are like this? Pantaleon briefly related their voyage from India, and the disastrous end. Tears shone in his eyes when he recounted the sad death of Leonor and her husband. Poor, poor girl, how sorry I am! Denise said mournfully, while Miriam, scarcely able to repress her sobs, drew Leonor's orphan boy in her arms, and bore him to their pretty home. You are all welcome, all, Senpayo said gently, turning to the haggard-looking seaman, come! A few days later a grand old ship, bound for Portugal, started from that coast, bearing the wrecked crew to their former destination. Among those on board were Denise and his wife. Fini had long since joined his forefathers, who now his innocence was made known, had no longer the fear of being imprisoned, and could return in safety to his native land. Pantaleon's father received Savita with almost paternal love, and some months after their arrival, when the mourning for poor Leonor was lessened, the two faithful hearts became one. Algarthea, Tonsa's son, was tenderly nurtured in their tranquil home, and the aunt he loved so dearly became a second mother, replacing the one he had lost. No shadow of his father's sin darkened his young life. He lived unconscious of the sad fate of his mother, who, one by crime, by her death, avenged Louis Falcom, for through her Manuel Tonsa had atoned for all. End of Section 10, End of One by Crime, read by Cibela Denton in Carrollton, Georgia, in October 2007.