Seeingmecomehehobbledonhissticktothegatetoopenitforme，whiningaprayerforalms。
’DoesMr。Wingfleldlivehere？’Isaid，pointingupthepath，andmybreathcamequickasIasked。
’Mr。Wingfield，sir，Mr。Wingfield，whichofthem？’heanswered。
’Theoldgentlemanhe’sbeendeadnighupontwentyyears。
IhelpedtodighisgraveinthechancelofyonderchurchIdid，welaidhimbyhiswife——herthatwasmurdered。
Thenthere’sMr。Geoffrey。’
’Whatofhim？’Iasked。
’He’sdead，too，twelveyeargoneormore；hedrankhisselftodeadhedid。
AndMr。Thomas，he’sdead，drownedoverseastheysay，manyawinterback；they’realldead，alldead！
Ah！hewasarareone，Mr。Thomaswas；ImindmewellhowwhenIletthefurrinergo——’
andherambledoffintothetaleofhowhehadsetdeGarciaonhishorseafterIhadbeatenhim，norcouldIbringhimbackfromit。
Castinghimapieceofmoney，Isetspurstomywearyhorseandcanteredupthebridlepath，leavingtheMillHouseonmyleft，andasIwent，thebeatofhishoofsseemedtoechotheoldman’swords，’Alldead，alldead！’
DoubtlessLilywasdeadalso，orifshewasnotdead，whenthetidingscamethatIhadbeendrownedatsea，shewouldhavemarried。
Beingsofairandsweetshewouldsurelynothavelackedforsuitors，norcoulditbebelievedthatshehadwornherlifeawaymourningoverthelostloveofheryouth。
NowtheLodgewasbeforeme；ithadchangednowhitexceptthattheivyandcreepersonitsfronthadgrownhigher，totheroofindeed，andIcouldseethatpeoplelivedinthehouse，foritwaswellkept，andsmokehungabovethechimneys。
Thegatewaslocked，andtherewerenoservingmenabout，fornightfellfast，andallhadceasedfromtheirlabour。
LeavingthehouseontherightIpassedroundittothestablesthatareatthebacknearthehillsidegarden，butherethegatewaslockedalso，andIdismountednotknowingwhattodo。
IndeedIwassounmannedwithfearanddoubtthatforawhileIseemedbewildered，andleavingthehorsetocropthegrasswherehestood，IwanderedtothefootofthechurchpathandgazedupthehillasthoughIwaitedforthecomingofonewhomIshouldmeet。
’Whatiftheywerealldead，whatifSHEweredeadandgone？’
I
buriedmyfaceinmyhandsandprayedtotheAlmightywhohadprotectedmethroughsomanyyears，tosparemethislastbitterness。
Iwascrushedwithsorrow，andIfeltthatIcouldbearnomore。
IfLilywerelosttomealso，thenIthoughtthatitwouldbebestthatIshoulddie，sincetherewasnothingleftforwhichIcaredtolive。
ThusIprayedforsomewhile，tremblinglikealeaf，andwhenI
lookedupagain，ereIturnedtoseektidingsfromthosethatdweltinthehouse，whoevertheymightbe，thetwilighthadfallencompletely，andlo！nightingalessangbothfarandnear。
I
listenedtotheirsong，andasIlistened，sometroubledmemorycamebacktomethatatfirstIcouldnotgrasp。
ThensuddenlythereroseupinmymindavisionofthesplendidchamberinMontezuma’spalaceinTenoctitlan，andofmyselfsleepingonagoldenbed，anddreamingonthatbed。
Iknewitnow，IwasthegodTezcat，andonthemorrowImustbesacrificed，andIsleptinmisery，andasIsleptIdreamed。
IdreamedthatIstoodwhereI
stoodthisnight，thatthescentoftheEnglishflowerswasinmynostrilsasitwasthisnight，andthatthesweetsongofthenightingalesranginmyearsasatthispresenthour。
IdreamedthatasImusedandlistenedthemooncameupoverthegreenashandoaks，andlo！theresheshone。
IdreamedthatIheardasoundofsingingonthehill——
ButnowIawokefromthisvisionofthepastandofalonglostdream，forasIstoodthesweetvoiceofawomanbegantosingyonderonthebrowoftheslope；Iwasnotmad，Ihearditclearly，andthesoundgrewevernearerasthesingerdrewdownthesteephillside。
ItwassonearnowthatIcouldcatchtheverywordsofthatsadsongwhichtothisdayIremember。
NowIcouldseethewoman’sshapeinthemoonlight；itwastallandstatelyandcladinawhiterobe。
Presentlysheliftedherheadtowatchtheflitterofabatandthemoonlightlituponherface。
ItwasthefaceofLilyBozard，mylostlove，beautifulasofyore，thoughgrownolderandstampedwiththesealofsomegreatsorrow。
Isaw，andsodeeplywasIstirredatthesight，thathaditnotbeenforthelowpalingtowhichIclung，Imusthavefallentotheearth，andadeepgroanbrokefrommylips。
Sheheardthegroanandceasedhersong，thencatchingsightofthefigureofaman，shestoppedandturnedasthoughtofly。
Istoodquitestill，andwonderovercomingherfear，shedrewnearerandspokeinthesweetlowvoicethatIrememberedwell，saying，’Whowandersheresolate？
Isityou，John？’
NowwhenIheardherspeakthusanewfeartookme。
Doubtlessshewasmarriedand’John’washerhusband。
Ihadfoundherbuttolosehermorecompletely。
OfasuddenitcameintomymindthatI
wouldnotdiscovermyselftillIknewthetruth。
Iadvancedapace，butnotsofarastopassfromtheshadowoftheshrubswhichgrowhere，andtakingmystandinsuchafashionthatthemoonlightdidnotstrikeuponmyface，IbowedlowinthecourtlySpanishfashion，anddisguisingmyvoicespokeasaSpaniardmightinbrokenEnglishwhichIwillsparetowritedown。
’Madam，’Isaid，’haveIthehonourtospeaktoonewhoinbygoneyearswasnamedtheSenoraLilyBozard？’
’Thatwasmyname，’sheanswered。
’Whatisyourerrandwithme，sir？’
NowItrembledafresh，butspokeonboldly。
’BeforeIanswer，Madam，forgivemeifIaskanotherquestion。
Isthisstillyourname？’
’Itisstillmyname，Iamnomarriedwoman，’sheanswered，andforamomenttheskyseemedtoreelabovemeandthegroundtoheavebeneathmyfeetlikethelavacrustofXaca。
ButasyetIdidnotrevealmyself，forIwishedtolearnifshestilllovedmymemory。
’Senora，’Isaid，’IamaSpaniardwhoservedintheIndianwarsofCortes，ofwhichperhapsyouhaveheard。’
ShebowedherheadandIwenton。
’InthosewarsImetamanwhowasnamedTeule，butwhohadanothernameinformerdays，sohetoldmeonhisdeathbedsometwoyearsago。
’Whatname？’sheaskedinalowvoice。
’ThomasWingfield。’
NowLilymoanedaloud，andinherturncaughtatthepalestosaveherselffromfalling。
’Ideemedhimdeadtheseeighteenyears，’shegasped；’drownedintheIndianseaswherehisvesselfoundered。’
’Ihaveheardsaythathewasshipwreckedinthoseseas，senora，butheescapeddeathandfellamongtheIndians，whomadeagodofhimandgavehimthedaughteroftheirkinginmarriage，’andI
paused。
Sheshivered，thensaidinahardvoice，’Continue，sir；Ilistentoyou。’
’MyfriendTeuletookthepartoftheIndiansinthewars，asbeingthehusbandofoneoftheirprincesseshemustdoinhonour，andfoughtbravelyforthemformanyyears。
Atlengththetownthathedefendedwascaptured，hisoneremainingchildwasmurdered，hiswifetheprincessslewherselfforsorrow，andhehimselfwastakenintocaptivity，wherehelanguishedanddied。’
’Asadtale，sir，’shesaidwithalittlelaugh——amournfullaughthatwashalfchokedbytears。
’Averysadtale，senora，butonewhichisnotfinished。
Whilehelaydying，myfriendtoldmethatinhisearlylifehehadplightedtrothwithacertainEnglishmaid，named——’
’Iknowthename——continue。’
’Hetoldmethatthoughhehadbeenwedded，andlovedhiswifetheprincess，whowasaveryroyalwoman，thatmanytimeshadriskedherlifeforhis，ay，eventolyingathissideuponthestoneofsacrificeandofherownfreewill，yetthememoryofthismaidentowhomhewasoncebetrothedhadcompanionedhimthroughlifeandwasstronguponhimnowatitsclose。
Thereforeheprayedmeforourfriendship’ssaketoseekheroutwhenIreturnedtoEurope，shouldshestilllive，andtogiveheramessagefromhim，andtomakeaprayertoheronhisbehalf。’
’Whatmessageandwhatprayer？’Lilywhispered。
’This:thathelovedherattheendofhislifeashehadlovedheratitsbeginning；thathehumblyprayedherforgivenessbecausehehadbrokenthetrothwhichtheytwosworebeneaththebeechatDitchingham。’
’Sir，’shecried，’whatdoyouknowofthat？’
’Onlywhatmyfriendtoldme，senora。’
’Yourfriendshipmusthavebeencloseandyourmemorymustbegood，’shemurmured。
’Whichhehaddone，’Iwenton，’understrangecircumstances，sostrangeindeedthathedaredtohopethathisbrokentrothmightberenewedinsomebetterworldthanthis。
Hislastprayerwasthatsheshouldsaytome，hismessenger，thatsheforgavehimandstilllovedhim，astohisdeathhelovedher。’
’Andhowcansuchforgivenessorsuchanavowaladvantageadeadman？’Lilyasked，watchingmekeenlythroughtheshadows。
’Havethedeadtheneyestoseeandearstohear？’
’HowcanIknow，senora？
Idobutexecutemymission。’
’AndhowcanIknowthatyouareatruemessenger。
ItchancedthatIhadsuretidingsofthedrowningofThomasWingfieldmanyyearsago，andthistaleofIndiansandprincessesiswondrousstrange，morelikethosethathappeninromancesthaninthisplainworld。
Haveyounotokenofyourgoodfaith，sir？’
’Ihavesuchatoken，senora，butthelightistoofaintforyoutoseeit。’
’Thenfollowmetothehouse，therewewillgetlight。
Stay，’andoncemoregoingtothestablegate，shecalled’John。’
Anoldmanansweredher，andIknewthevoiceforthatofoneofmyfather’sservingmen。
Tohimshespokeinlowtones，thenledthewaybythegardenpathtothefrontdoorofthehouse，whichsheopenedwithakeyfromhergirdle，motioningtometopassinbeforeher。
Ididso，andthinkinglittleofsuchmattersatthemoment，turnedbyhabitintothedoorwayofthesitting-roomwhichIknewsowell，liftingmyfeettoavoidstumblingonitsstep，andpassingintotheroomfoundmywaythroughthegloomtothewidefireplacewhereItookmystand。
Lilywatchedmeenter，thenfollowingme，shelitataperatthefirewhichsmoulderedonthehearth，andplacedituponthetableinthewindowinsuchfashionthatthoughIwasnowobligedtotakeoffmyhat，myfacewasstillinshadow。
’Now，sir，yourtokenifitpleasesyou。’
ThenIdrewtheposyringfrommyfingerandgaveittoher，andshesatdownbythetableandexamineditinthelightofthecandle，andasshesatthus，Isawhowbeautifulshewasstill，andhowlittletimehadtouchedher，exceptforthesadnessofherface，thoughnowshehadseeneight-and-thirtywinters。
Isawalsothatthoughshekeptcontrolofherfeaturesasshelookeduponthering，herbreastheavedquicklyandherhandshook。
’Thetokenisatrueone，’shesaidatlength。
’Iknowthering，thoughitissomewhatwornsincelastIsawit，itwasmymother’s；