After a moment’s deliberation, she resolved to deliver the packet to its direction without delay. Pursuant to this design, she called for Martha Follett; and through that faithful adherent, gave orders to her other servants, who had charge of the carriage and horses, to prepare for their return to Neville Grange. While she was herself preparing to depart, Martha again entered her presence, and, with some appearance of agitation, informed her that her cousin, Don Felix, was without, and sought to speak with her. “Bid him come in, good Martha,” answered Evaline. Martha, with a silent curtsy, withdrew; and, the next moment, Don Felix entered. Evaline did not meet him with her usual friendliness. His conduct towards Hildebrand, with a knowledge of the service that the latter had rendered her and her father, had led her to look upon him in a new light, and, though she was not disposed to judge him harshly, had shown a meanness of spirit that she could not but condemn. On glancing at his face, however, and perceiving that he looked dejected and anxious, her coldness began to relax, and, yielding to the generous impulses of her nature, she extended him her hand. “’Tis well,” said Don Felix, taking her hand. “I have come to bid thee adieu, Evaline.” “How meanest thou?” asked Evaline, with some alarm. “There is a warrant out to arrest me,” answered Don Felix. “It arrived at the Grange last night, with a power from the sheriff; but, by good fortune, I got out by the back way and escaped.” “Surely, it were better, Sir, to surrender,” said Evaline. “Thou canst not long evade the law.” “I will evade it altogether,” returned Don Felix. “There is a ship in Topsham harbour, which sails this evening for France; and I will get me aboard her, and flee the country. I can make my way to Spain overland.” “Oh, no! prithee leave us not now, Felix,” cried Evaline, forgetting all her dislike in her extreme distress, “Thou art innocent of any crime. Wherefore shouldst thou flee?” “An’ my stay could avail thee, Evaline, or good Sir Edgar, no hazard of mine own self should make me flee,” answered the Spaniard; “but thou knowest that it would not.” “None, none!” said Evaline. “Yet to be alone--Oh! I have now no comforter on earth!” There was a brief pause. Though Evaline knew that the stay of Don Felix would afford her no direct advantage, his desertion of her at this moment, when, for aught he knew, she stood alone, afflicted her severely. The world was new to her, and she was not yet aware, what she was so soon to experience, that, in the season of trouble and adversity, friends fall off, and avoid our fallen and declining estate as they would a pestilent contagion. He is, indeed, a friend, above the ordinary meaning of the term, who will meet us in adversity with the same cordiality and welcome, not to say eagerness, that we called forth in the day of our prosperity.