'They were all around her; she smiled upon them all, and called them all by name, bidding them farewell. 'Forgive me,' she whispered to the Doctor. The Nightingale sang a hymn, sang as he had never sung before. Black Andy knelt at her feet. For some minutes she lay scarcely breathing; then suddenly she opened her fading eyes. 'Friends,' she murmured, 'I am well punished. I thought myself holy,--I held myself above my kind,--but God has shown me I am the weakest of them all.' 'The next moment she was gone. 'The men buried her with tender hands. Then in a kind of blind fury against Fate, they tore down her empty lodge and destroyed its every fragment; in their grim determination they even smoothed over the ground and planted shrubs and bushes, so that the very location might be lost. But they did not stay to see the change. In a month the camp broke up of itself, the town was abandoned, and the island deserted for good and all; I doubt whether any of the men ever came back or even stopped when passing by. Probably I am the only one. Thirty years ago,--thirty years ago!' 'That Mitchell was a great fool,' I said, after a long pause. 'The Doctor was worth twenty of him; for that matter, so was Black Andy. I only hope the fellow was well punished for his stupidity.' 'He was.' 'O, you kept track of him, did you?' 'Yes. He went back into the world, and the woman he loved repulsed him a second time, and with even more scorn than before.' 'Served him right.' 'Perhaps so; but after all, what could he do? Love is not made to order. He loved one, not the other; that was his crime. Yet,--so strange a creature is man,--he came back after thirty years, just to see our Lady's grave.' 'What! Are you--' 'I am Mitchell,--Reuben Mitchell.' MACARIUS THE MONK. BY JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY. In the old days, while yet the church was young, And men believed that praise of God was sung In curbing self as well as singing psalms, There lived a monk, Macarius by name, A holy man, to whom the faithful came With hungry hearts to hear the wonderous Word. In sight of gushing springs and sheltering palms, He lived upon the desert: from the marsh He drank the brackish water, and his food Was dates and roots,--and all his rule was harsh, For pampered flesh in those days warred with good,