husband, the letter of Burley, long forgotten, suddenly rushed on his memory, like a ray of light darting through a mist.
"Their ruin must have been his work," was his internal conclusion—"If it can be repaired, it must be through his means, or by information obtained from him. I will search him out. Stern, crafty, and enthusiastic as he is, my plain and downright rectitude of purpose has more than once prevailed with him. I will seek him out, at least, and who knows what influence the information I may acquire from him may have on the fortunes of those whom I shall never see more, and who will probably never learn that I am now suppressing my own grief to add, if possible, to their happiness."
Animated by these hopes, though the foundation was but slight, he sought the nearest way to the high-road, and as all the tracks through the valley were known to him since he hunted through them in youth, he had no other difficulty than
