Hugh could not discourage her, though he doubted whether a real communication could be established between them. “I will write down his address for you, when I go in,” said he. “But what can he save you from?” “From no God,” she answered, solemnly. “If there is no God, then I am sure that there is a devil, and that he has got me in his power.” Hugh felt her shudder, for she was leaning on his arm, she was still so lame. She continued: “Oh! if I had a God, he would right me, I know.” Hugh could not reply. A pause followed. “Good-bye. I feel pretty sure we shall meet again. My presentiments are generally true,” said Euphra, at length. Hugh kissed her hand with far more real devotion than he had ever kissed it with before. She left him, and hastened to the house ‘with feeble speed.’ He was sorry she was gone. He walked up and down for some time, meditating on the strange girl and her strange words; till, hearing the dinner bell, he too must hasten in to dress. Euphra met him at the dinner-table without any change of her late manner. Mr. Arnold wished him good night more kindly than usual. When he went up to his room, he found that Harry had already cried himself to sleep. CHAPTER XXXII. DEPARTURE. I fancy deemed fit guide to lead my way, And as I deemed I did pursue her track; Wit lost his aim, and will was fancy’s prey; The rebel won, the ruler went to wrack. But now sith fancy did with folly end, Wit, bought with loss—will, taught by wit, will mend. SOUTHWELL.—David’s Peccavi. After dinner, Hugh wandered over the well-known places, to bid them good-bye. Then he went up to his room, and, with the vanity of a young author, took his poems out of the fatal old desk; wrote: “Take them, please, such as they are. Let me be your friend;” inclosed them with the writing, and addressed them to Euphra. By the time he saw them again, they were so much waste paper in his eyes. But what were his plans for the future?