At this moment, the first ray of hope penetrates the soul.

We breathe more freely like those who lost in the windings of a dark cavern at last think they see a light, though indeed its existence is still doubtful.

This faint light is the day dawn, though so colorless are its rays, that it is more like the extinction of the dying twilight,--the fall of the night-shroud upon the earth.

But it is indeed the dawn; we know it by the vivid and pure breath of the young zephyrs which it sends forth, like avant-coureurs, to bear us the assurance of morn and safety.

The balm of flowers fills the air, like the thrilling of an encouraged hope.