"It is the language my heart pours from my lips," said I, grasping his hand as if with irrepressible emotion. "I have a heavy crime here--here!" and I struck my breast violently; "and if it be as yet unaccomplished, the shadow of the guilt is on me already." "Sit still, my son, sit still, and listen to me," said he, restraining me, as I was about to rise. "To whom can you reveal these mysterious terrors more fittingly than to me? Be candid; tell me what weighs upon your heart. It may be that a mere word of mine can give you courage and calm." "That cannot be," said I, firmly; "you speak in kindness, but you know not what you promise. I am under a vow, Father,--I am under a vow." "Well, my son, there are many vows meritorious. There are vows of penitence, and of chastity, and of abstinence--" "Mine is none of these," said I, with a low, guttural utterance, as if I was biting each word I spoke. "Vows of chastisement--" "Not that, not that either!" cried I; then, dropping my voice to a low whisper, I said, "I have sworn a solemn oath to commit a murder! I know the full guilt of what is before me, I see all the consequences, both here and hereafter: but my word is pledged,--I have taken the oath with every ceremony that can give it solemnity; and--I 'll go through with it!" "There is a mystery in all this," said the Padre; "you must recount the circumstances of this singular pledge, ere I can give you either comfort or counsel." "I look for neither,--I hope for neither!" said I, wringing my hands; "but you shall hear my story,--you are the last to whom I can ever reveal it! I arrived at New Orleans about a fortnight ago, on a yacht cruise with a friend of mine, of whose name, at least, you may have heard,--Sir Dudley Broughton." "The owner of a handsome schooner, the 'Firefly,'" said the Padre, with an animation on the subject not quite in keeping with his costume. "The same; you are, then, acquainted with him?" "Oh, no; I was accidentally standing on the wharf when his yacht came up the river at New Orleans." "You did n't remark a young man on the poop in a foraging-cap, with a gold band round it?" "I cannot say I did." "He carried a key-bugle in his hand." "I did not perceive him."