bound to you, my dear friend, by ties of gratitude, tnat it would be more than ordinarily base were I intentionally to bring sorrow upon you or yours; and if I should unhappily be, without intention, such an instrument as you speak of, my regret would only cease with my life, I am sure.'

6

"You speak prettily, Mr. Rivers," returned the gentleman; "but words are but wind,' as the poet says-you see I can quote poetry as well as you, sir-and when deeds give the lie to words, how is it then, Mr. Rivers?"

"It is plain, I see, that I have, without intention or knowledge on my part, offended you, Mr. Vincent," said Rivers, calmly. "I deeply regret it; but you will do me the justice, I feel sure, to tell me the nature of my particular offence before we part. I shall soon, very soon, leave your hospitable house, sir; nay, I am ready to leave it this very hour if it is your wish; and we shall probably never meet again. It would make me very unhappy to reflect that we had parted in coolness or in anger. What, then, have I done to excite your displeasure?"

"The adder, sir! the adder!" exclaimed the stricken man, impatiently. "Naturalists call it a viper, I believe; but it is all the same. I told you of the adder, Mr. Rivers, that laid in the bosom of the man who was so foolish as to put it there till its life and venom returned: and then you know what followed, for you have read Æsop, you know, sir."

"But you have mistaken me cruelly, sir, if you think that I have acted, or am capable of acting, that part towards you," returned Rivers. "On the contrary, if there were but a way open to me of showing how much I feel the obligations under which I am laid to yourself and your daughter, and indeed to all your household

"You can do it," broke in Mr. Vincent, eagerly. "You speak of leaving us: it is well. Add only to this, that you will be

pleased to forget that we have ever met. Say this, and we will part in peace, if not in friendship."

"You ask more than I can promise, sir," replied Rivers; "you yourself surely know how hard, how impossible, it is to forget the past; but”

He could say no more; for even while he was speaking his unhappy friend uttered a loud despairing cry, and hastily left the room. In a few seconds only he perceived him from the window, walking rapidly and with disordered steps across the clearing, towards a small inclosure which, sheltered and shaded by a plantation of firs, served as the burying-ground of the small settlement. While Rivers hesitated whether or not to follow, and make further attempts to soothe the strangely disordered mind of his host, he was partly relieved by seeing Rose quietly following her father. Trusting to her gentle influence to bring back the perturbed man to calmer thoughts, yet anxious for her safety, the young man watched at the window till the shades of the darkening twilight almost shut out the scene; and then, to his relief, he was able to trace dimly the faint outlines of the father and daughter emerging from the burial-ground, arm linked in arm.

A few minutes later they entered the apartment.

"Mr. Rivers, I have to apologise for leaving you abruptly just now; so Rose tells me." Captain Vincent extended his hand as he spoke, and kindly grasped that of his guest. "I was not aware, but I am sadly oblivious at times, I am afraid. You will forgive my rudeness, I am sure."

It is needless to say that Harry Rivers eagerly disclaimed all thought of taking offence; and the evening passed away peacefully, until Mr. Vincent, pleading indisposition, retired to his chamber. The other members of the household soon followed his example; and before the waning moon had risen the house was wrapped in the quiet of peaceful slumber.

CHAPTER XLIII.

NIGHT THOUGHTS AND A PARTING.

RIVERS retired to his room, but not to sleep. His mind was too busy to permit slumber to descend very readily on his eyelids; and the various incidents of the day passed in review before him. Naturally he dwelt on the strange bearing towards him of his host, and the still stranger charge which had been brought against himself, convincing him of what he had before occasionally feared, that Captain Vincent was not altogether and always in his right mind. Many minute circumstances tending to this conclusion came before his memory, though the unhappy man had never, till the past evening; evinced such unmistakable symptoms of insanity. At the same time, if mad, there was some method in his madness. Plainly, to Harry's thoughts, the charges brought against himself pointed to a suspicion, on the part of his host, that he was playing with the affections of Rose Vincent, and either deceiving her into a belief that he cared for her, or was actually contemplating a close and dearer connection with her than her father approved.

For the first time since he had known Rose Vincent, Rivers began to analyse the nature of the sentiments which hitherto he had been contented to entertain towards her. Until the day just past he had believed himself to be proof against the allurement of a second love. Deep, deep buried in the sepulchre of the past, were all the tender emotions of that mysterious passion, and Disappointment had set her seal upon the door. There had been a sort of gloomy satisfaction in thinking this; so that the foolish young fellow could have responded to the poetic nonsense

which somebody or other once upon a time penned when in a frantic mood

"There's such a charm in melancholy,

I would not, if I could, be gay."

But the belief which he gravely entertained, that he was most miserable; that his heart was robbed of its richest treasure; that his affections were blighted; that "the freshness of his life's young" something or other, "nothing could now restore "-this true and honest, but very ridiculous belief had received a powerful shock not many hours before, when he read of the marriage of his inconstant Clara. Positively, he had read this fearful announcement with little more emotion than he would have felt had Clara Gilbert been the most indifferent acquaintance he had ever known; with so little emotion that, when he thought of it again, he was quite shocked at his own insensibility, as well as puzzled; so shocked that, for decency's sake, and to pacify his conscience, he strove to get up a little tumult in his own mind. But it would not do. "What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba?" came into his thoughts; and he almost laughed at his own folly. But then came the grave perplexity; and Harry dwelt upon it gravely, as an honourable man would. He had been so sure of his own imperturbability, frozen-heartedness, impregnabilitycall it what you will, or what he might—that it took him quite by surprise to find that this little Rose of the woodlands and wilds was very dear to him; in short, that the regard and esteem in which he held her were something different from fraternal affection, and far beyond the requirements of an ordinary friendship.

"Yes, there was method in Captain Vincent's madness, after all"-so Harry Rivers argued "he has seen what I have been ignorant of; and no wonder his anger has risen against me, an unknown man in the colony, an unprincipled adventurer, for anything he can tell. He might have been more rational in

his anger, certainly; but then I am convinced he has his hours and days of well, say melancholy. Poor Rose !"

And this mental exclamation brought Harry Rivers back again to the starting-point-poor Rose !—and he persuaded himself that he was quite clear and positively convinced that "poor Rose" did not participate in his own newly discovered tenderness. She think of him as a lover, or look upon him in any other light than as a common acquaintance! No; he was very clear on that point.

It may be a question whether this certainty in his own mind gave Harry such unmixed satisfaction as it ought to have given, considering that he felt it to be his first and imperative duty to crush the incipient feeling which had, somehow or other, sprung up unawares and taken possession of his heart. Every man naturally likes to be admired, and is gratified in believing that he has inspired an interest for himself in a woman's breast, especially if that sentiment or feeling be reciprocated by himself. So when Rivers said within himself, "I am sure Rose Vincent does not care for me," though he knew it was best that it should be so, you will pardon him that a slight pang-well, of mortified vanity, if you please-mingled with the gladness the full belief excited.

But why this sudden determination on the part of Rivers, that, be the state of the young lady's affections towards himself, and his towards her, what they might, he could not possibly marry her? Well, really there are such mysteries in the human heart, and such hidden springs of human thoughts and actions, that it is often difficult to discover them, or to understand them when discovered. Perhaps, however, our present hero's rash conclusion admits of some explanation. For instance, Harry Rivers had some old-fashioned notions about the honour and obedience due to parents in such cases; and he might have argued that, seeing Captain Vincent was so violently excited