"Oh not now, not now!" she cried, drawing back. But the old man still held her hand in his, which seemed to scorch her; and he went on, "Why not now, Helen? It will soon be too late. The minutes are numbered, my poor girl. The hand upon the dial seems to go slow, but it will soon point to the hour when this fire shall have burned itself out, and nothing but the ashes will remain.--I have learned something of your story, Helen, from the people who came with my keen, harsh sister, Jacqueline.--Old Estoc heard it, and told it to me; but I would know more,--I would know all--" "Oh not now, not now!" cried Helen again; and, by a sudden movement of anguish and terror, she drew her hand from him, and, with a gasping sob, ran out of the room. There was no one in the hall, and when she reached the middle, she paused. "Shall I leave him?" she asked herself, "Leave him because he means and speaks kindly--leave him because I cannot bear to hear my own folly breathed,--leave him?--Oh no!" and with a movement as sudden, but with a downcast eye and burning cheek, she returned, and seated herself near in silence, gazing upon the ground. "Helen," said the old Commander, "I have grieved you. Come hither, and forgive me." She sprang towards him, and, casting herself on her knees by the bed-side, covered her aching eyes with her hands, exclaiming, "Oh, no, no! It is I who need forgiveness; not you. Do not speak so kindly, Sir, do not speak so gently; for it goes farther to break my heart, than all your sister's harshness." "Hush, hush!" said the old soldier, "Do not move me, there's a good girl. But listen to me, Helen, for I wish you well, and you have been tender and affectionate to me this day, when I have much needed it.--I am a rough old man, Helen, and know not how to speak gently. But I would fain talk to you about yourself, before I depart from this place. Listen to me then, and do not think I mean anything but kindness. I hear that my sister has been hard upon you,--driven you out of her house,--given you harsh names.--Nay never shake so.--She is a bitter woman, Helen, to all faults but her own; and I am sure if you have any, they have been but too much gentleness.--Why, I remember you as a little child in your good father's time.--There now, you weep! I know not how to speak to you.--But never mind, I'll talk no more about yourself. But whatever be your faults, Helen, take my advice. Go to your uncle, tell him all. He will forgive you; for he is a good man at heart, and loves you; and besides,--" "Oh, no, no!" cried Helen, "I cannot go to him, for his look would kill me.--Rose, so kind and good, so gentle to the faults of others, she too, persuaded me to go to him: but you do not know him. He is good and kind, and loves me well, it is true; but he is not forgiving.--Besides, how can I go there? How can I see him without meeting,--" and she gave a quick shudder, without concluding the sentence.