With fleet steps she hurried through the quiet graveyard, down the
hill, and along the path which led to the dwellings of the settlement.
Jonathan stood looking after her, as long as his eye could discern the
airy, lithe figure.

All pretence of calmness had vanished from his face. His eyes
glittered with a strange light and glowed with passionate desire. For
a moment the staid, elderly man was transformed into an eager, ardent
youth.

"She inherits the hot, proud Spanish blood of her mother, and, alas!
the same fatal, enchanting beauty also," he muttered. "If I could only
win her--" He stopped abruptly, as if fearful of being overheard, and
began to brush away some imaginary specks of dust from his sleeve.
Drooping his head into its usual pious attitude, his face assumed its
former grave expression, and he was again the sedate, quiet Brother.




CHAPTER II.

A Moravian settlement! As we enter it, it seems as if we stepped into
another sphere, so utterly unlike is it to the bustle and hurry of the
age of progress which prevails in the outer world that presses so
closely upon its borders, and against which it quietly but firmly
opposes the bulwarks of its ancient customs, the simplicity of its
regulations, and the severity of its discipline. It has no intercourse
with the tide of human life surging around it. It seems like a small