with anxiety, at length suggested that he should relieve his mind by repeating the tale to the recluse himself.  He readily adopted the suggestion.  His listener, who had been too delicate to question Hilda as to her antecedents, but who had been burning to learn the explanation of the striking resemblance of her features to a face which, whether he waked or slept, ever haunted him, though more often contorted in agony than wreathed in smiles, heard with impatience the history of Algar’s treachery; but when Jean detailed the escape of Tita and her charge, and identified the latter with the maiden whom he had rescued, he sprang to his feet at the risk of plunging his patient into a fresh crisis of fever, and exclaimed, “May the choicest gifts of heaven be showered on thee, brave youth! the blessed angels and saints will love thee for this deed!” He reflected a moment, then turned his eyes full on Jean’s face, “Why should I leave it to Austin to tell thee what he has long known under the solemn secrecy which binds priest and sinner?  Thou shalt know it from my own lips:  I am Haco!  Drifted hitherward on that lonely voyage, I was released by holy men, now saints above, who healed my wounds and taught me to bury my pride, and to kneel humbly before the Cross.  I never doubted that I was childless as well as wifeless; had I done so, I should have returned at all risks to claim my own.  But she!  Hilda! ’twas her mother’s name! this maiden, towards whom my soul went out in yearning, is my own! yes! my child!  If a wild feeling rose when I watched her I crushed it out, for I thought that I had stifled all human passions; but now—­” He fell on his knees, and hid his face in his hands, his giant frame convulsed with sobs; but it was evident that he was controlling himself, and when he rose his rugged face was full of humanity:  youth seemed to have returned to it; under the disfiguring scars Jean could trace without difficulty the fearless, generous features of which Judith had spoken with such enthusiasm.  Haco warmly grasped the sick man’s hand, and left the cell.

Father Austin had, it appeared, learnt Judith’s story from Hilda, but this confidence also had been made under the seal of confession.  He had been confirmed in his impression of its accuracy by the tale he had already heard from Haco, whose strange arrival was still a favourite topic among the monks, though none of those now in the monastery had witnessed it.  The three men were now able openly to discuss the subject in its various bearings, but they agreed that the mystery should not be revealed till peace was restored.

Haco had from the first foreseen the danger to be apprehended from the Voizin incursion.  The monks were still further surprised to see the being, whose gentleness had amazed them on Hilda’s arrival, now a leader of men, active, vigorous, inspiring others with the love of life with which he himself seemed to be animated.  Before the attack came Jean was sufficiently recovered to be able to render efficient assistance; he had ably seconded Haco in the two encounters, after which he was specially entrusted with the defence of the Vale.