"'T is like a black dream, from which I must yet awaken.

She died, I swear she died; the sisters told me so at the convent of the Ursulines, whither she fled to escape my unkindness,--for I did her wrong; and I stood by the grave as the body they called hers was lowered into the ground.

For all these years have I thought it true; yet the girl yonder was Marie.

But you, Wayland,--know you aught of her ?" "Only that she guided me hither in search of Mademoiselle.

On the way we conversed, and she let me know that she had dedicated her life to the service of these Indians, seeking to save their souls." "'T is like enough; she was ever half a nun, and most religious.