The husband and father had not yet returned though it was afternoon of the subsequent day on which they had arrived at the cottage. Fanny was evidently well enough to leave, but Lovell was anxious to see the father of these bright eyed and rosy cheeked children, and to recompense him in some degree for the hospitality they had enjoyed under his happy roof. And in addition to this inducement to stop still longer, the robber whom he had secured, and who now lay unable to move in one of the apartments of the house, was pronounced by the physician whose services had been procured at an outlay of no little trouble from a great distance, to be dying, and Lovell wanted to see the matter at an end, either as to his probable recovery, or proper attention paid to him when deceased.--Several of the neighbors, who were but few, had called to see him, but none could recognize him, and it was very evident that he was a stranger in the neighborhood.--From him there could be no intelligence gained, for he had few lucid moments, his injuries being mainly upon the brain. At last in one of those intervals of reason, when Lovell stood by his side he looked at him and recognizing him, said: ‘I have wronged you--forgive me. I have been driven step by step to this act, it was my first--but did I not hear a voice with you that I knew? It sounded very familiar, and brought back the remembrance of years long past.’ ‘I hardly think it can be the case,’ said Lovell kindly. ‘The lady with me was my wife.’ ‘Can I see her?’ said the sufferer. ‘I would ask her forgiveness, too, for I feel that I am about to die.’ ‘I would ask your forgiveness for the evil I have done--can you forgive one who is dying and is repentant?’ ‘I forgive you with all my heart,’ said Fanny; ‘have you asked your Maker to do so?’ ‘Nay, I dare not!’ said the man, shuddering. ‘But he will forgive all who truly repent,’ said Fanny; ‘I will pray for you.’ And she lifted her voice, low and musical, to her Maker, in the pious prayer of a Christian, asking forgiveness for her enemy. It was a beautiful sight, and Fanny never looked more lovely to Lovell than at that moment. ‘Is there nothing in which we can serve you?’ asked Fanny at length, ‘no message to your friends or family?’ ‘None, I have none. My near relations are dead--my early friends have long since discarded me! How strange that I remember so well your voice, lady. Where can we have met before?’ ‘Have you felt thus?’ said Fanny. ‘The first words you spoke caused the same thought in my mind. I’ve have not even yet learned your name.’ ‘It is Banning!’ said the man.