“’Beloved Paul,
May God forgive you as my heart forgives. 
Even as a vine that winds about an oak,
Rot-struck and hollow-hearted, for support,
Clasping the sapless branches as it climbs
With tender tendrils and undoubting faith,
I leaned upon your troth; nay, all my hopes—­
My love, my life, my very hope of heaven—­
I staked upon your solemn promises. 
I learned to love you better than my God;
My God hath sent me bitter punishment. 
O broken pledges! what have I to live
And suffer for?  Half mad in my distress,
Yielding at last to father’s oft request,
I pledged my hand to one whose very love
Would be a curse upon me all my days. 
To-morrow is the promised wedding day;
To morrow!—­but to-morrow shall not come! 
Come gladlier, death, and make an end of all! 
How many weary days and patiently
I waited for a letter, and at last
It came—­a message crueler than death. 
O take it back!—­and if you have a heart
Yet warm to pity her you swore to love,
Read it—­and think of those dear promises—­
O sacred as the Savior’s promises—­
You whispered in my ear that solemn night
Beneath the pines, and kissed away my tears. 
And know that I forgive, beloved Paul: 
Meet me in heaven.  God will not frown upon
The sin that saves me from a greater sin,
And sends my soul to Him.  Farewell—­Farewell.’”

Here he broke down.  Unto his pallid lips
I held a flask of wine.  He sipped the wine
And closed his eyes in silence for a time,
Resuming thus: 

“You see the wicked plot. 
We both were victims of a crafty scheme
To break our hearts asunder.  Forgery
Had done its work and pride had aided it. 
The spurious letter was a cruel one—­
Casting her off with utter heartlessness,
And boasting of a later, dearer love,
And begging her to burn the billets-doux
A moon-struck boy had sent her ere he found
That pretty girls were plenty in the world.

“Think you my soul was roiled with anger?—­No;—­
God’s hand was on my head.  A keen remorse
Gnawed at my heart.  O false and fatal pride
That blinded me, else I had seen the plot
Ere all was lost—­else I had saved a life
To me most precious of all lives on earth—­
Yea, dearer then than any soul in heaven! 
False pride—­the ruin of unnumbered souls—­
Thou art the serpent ever tempting me;
God, chastening me, has bruised thy serpent head. 
O faithful heart in silence suffering—­
True unto death to one she could but count
A perjured villain, cheated as she was! 
Captain, I prayed—­’twas all that I could do. 
God heard my prayer, and with a solemn heart,
Bearing the letters in my hand, I went
To ask a favor of the man who crushed
And cursed my life—­to look upon her face—­
Only to look on her dear face once more.