GENTLENESS IS POWER. 133 
“The impending calamity might be averted wholly in my sim- 
ple person, by the unwise spurning of heaven’s choicest gift—life. 
I could, with a well-compassed artifice, foil my ravisher, and shiver 
in pieces the cup at the moment when its possessor was pressing it 
to his lips. And I fear not to do this—I fear not death; but I 
fear to do an unworthy thing—TI fear to act cowardly. Endurance 
of evil with constancy is the truest bravery. Were it, therefore, 
only the offering of the most acceptable sacrifice to the memory of 
her who showed me, by her own blessed example, the beauty of 
steadfastness in all things good, I should perform the hard task 
now set before me. ‘To-morrow, at the appointed time, I leave my 
father’s house.” 
So saying, with a blushed cheek of modesty and maidenly con- 
sciousness, she left the council. The soft yet prevailing tones of 
her voice rang in the ears of all her auditors, each of whom, while 
he hallowed the victim, humbled his soul in self-abasement before 
the magnitude of the sacrifice. 
The few hours of solitary seclusion previously to the solemnizing 
of the marriage ceremony are rarely passed by any maiden unac- 
companied with perturbed and tumultuous emotions, even though 
the prospect of her future course of life appear placid, shining, and 
joyous. She is about to yield every prerogative, but that of thought, 
to the dominion of the stranger. She abandons her freedom of 
action to the controul of another she does not unerringly know ; 
for the prologue to the drama she is about to enact is not always a 
faithful promise—nay, it is frequently a false guide to its intent, 
progress, and consummation. She throws a fearful stake. All 
may be a faithful prescript of after fulfilment, and all may be “ false 
and hollow.” Alas! for the woman who, after reaping the harvest 
of plighted truth, discovers in the rich garner of her stored affec- 
tion the creeping mildew of doubt, mistrust, and unkindness. The 
bitterness of this lot, at all events, was not prepared for Caranza : 
she could have no misgivings—her career admitted of no doubt—a 
frightful certainty stared her in the face; and appalling as this was, 
it may be deemed preferable to the cruelty of a blighted hope. Her 
night was passed, like the felon’s, in the stupor of sleep. The gen- 
tle, ministering hand of nature came to the relief of her over-strain- 
ed faculties ; for the outward calm and apparent self-possession of 
the sweet martyr, were but the personation of a lofty spirit, which 
could not descend to the level of selfish weakness that she saw 
around her. 
Before the hour for leaving her native home—the scenes of all 
