"Oh, papa! I care nothing for the world nor for society without you," she
sobbed, realizing more fully than she ever had done, that she would soon
be fatherless.

"But it is not right that you should spend your life in such a place as
this," responded Mr. Abbot. "I have written to Mr. Bancroft, and if
anything happens to me suddenly you will find the letter in my desk, and
must send it to him immediately. I would mail it now, only--I cannot feel
reconciled to having any one learn of our hiding-place while I live. One
thing more I must speak of. I should have done so the other night if we
had not been interrupted. When I am gone I want you to lay my body here,
under the shadow of the old pine tree."

"Papa, papa! you will break my heart! Surely you would wish to lie beside
my mother!" Virgie cried, the tears raining over her cheeks.

Mr. Abbot's face was almost convulsed with pain for a moment.

"Yes, if that were possible," he said, at length, "but no one must ever
know the fate of Abbot Al--Ha! Virgie, I had nearly uttered the dishonored
name!" he panted.

"Papa, you shall not talk so," the girl cried, wiping her tears and
turning on him almost indignantly.

"I would not pain you, my darling," he answered, gently; "but if there
were no cloud hanging over us, I should be only too glad to go back to our
old home to die and be laid beside my loved ones. It cannot be, however,"
he concluded, sighing wearily.