With these words Mark turned away and left the house. The old man,
in grief and alarm at the effect of his words, called after him, but
he heeded him not.

"Run after him, and tell him to come back," he cried to a servant
who stood near and had listened to what had passed between them. The
order was obeyed, but it was of no avail. Mark returned a bitter
answer to the message he brought him, and continued on his way. As
he was hurrying along, suddenly he encountered Jenny. It was strange
that he should meet her so often. There was something in it more
than accident, and he felt that it was so.

"God bless you, Jenny!" he exclaimed with much feeling, catching
hold of her hand and kissing it. "We may never meet again. They
thought I meant you harm, and have driven me away. But, Heaven knows
how little of evil purpose was in my heart! Farewell! Sometimes,
when you are kneeling to say your nightly prayers, think of me, and
breathe my name in your petitions. I will need the prayers of the
innocent. Farewell!"

And under the impulse of the moment, Mark bent forward and pressed
his lips fervently upon her pure forehead; then, springing away,
left her bewildered and in tears.

Mark hurried on towards the nearest landing place on the river, some
three miles distant, which he reached just as a steamboat was
passing. Waving his handkerchief, as a signal, the boat rounded to,
and touching at the rude pier, took him on board. He arrived in New
York that evening, and on the next morning started for Washington to