took leave of the holy man just at nightfall, and made his way through the woods, guided by the familiar indications on the trees. It was a breath less night; the stars looked far away and dim beside one blazing planet that hung low in the horizon over the city. Never had he seen that queen of planets so bright. She shone forth with a mellow radiance, beside which the young moon looked pale and chilly in comparison. At a point where three paths converged, the wayfarer stopped, and falling on his knees, held up his hands adoring, beseeching the point of yellow flame which shone down upon New Orleans.
His lips moved. Could he be praying to the evening star, or was he apostrophizing the Love it typifies? Ere his journey was half accomplished, the star had set; but would it not rise on the morrow? Early in the morning he reached the city, having walked since sunset. The streets were quiet; and foot-weary as he was, he yielded to the temptation of looking upon his maiden's dwelling before he went to rest. The little house looked very friendly. The blinds of the lower rooms were open, and his eyes sought the corner where Margaret was wont to sit of an evening with her small tea-table beside her. All was as he had last seen it. With a light step he passed to the garden, and finding the studio-door unlocked, entered
