cowl was thrown back, and his gaze so fixed on Marie that she blushed
beneath it, and turned away.

"Do not turn from me, my child," he said; and Henriquez started at the
voice, it was so fraught with memories of the departed. "Stranger as
I must be, save in name, to thee--thou art none such to me. I seem
to feel thy mother once again before me--and never was sister more
beloved!--Manuel, hast thou, indeed, forgotten Julien?"

Almost ere he ceased to speak, the long separated relatives were
clasped in each, other's arms. The five-and-twenty years, which had
changed the prime of manhood into advancing age, and blanched the hair
of each, had had no power to decrease the strong ties of kindred,
so powerful in their secret race. The agitation and excitement of
Henriquez was so excessive, not only then, but during the few days
intervening before the celebration of the bridal, that Marie, in spite
of the near approach of the dreaded day, could only think of him.

Ferdinand was no exacting lover: his affection for her was so intense,
so true; his confidence in her truth so perfect, that, though he might
at times have fancied that she loved not then with fervor equal to
his own, he was contented to believe that his devotion would in time
create in her as powerful a feeling. He had so watched, so tended her
from infancy: she had so clung to and reverenced him, so opened her
young heart, without one reservation, to his view--so treated him as
her most cherished, most loved friend, that how could he dream she had
aught to conceal, or believe that, did she know there was, she could
have hesitated, one moment, to refuse his hand, preferring even the
misery of so grieving him, to the continued agony of deceit? It was
this perfect confidence, this almost childish trust, so beautiful in