Daph listened with wondering eyes and grateful heart to the story of their escape, whom she had so long mourned, and whose place she had so striven to fill. The coachman, who was pledged to murder his master and mistress, relented, and resolved to save them from the ruin with which they were threatened. Gen. Latourette’s first suspicion of danger was roused by finding that they had been driven in the wrong direction, while he in careless confidence had been chatting with his wife. In the moonlight, he could see the flashing of the waves and hear the murmur of the waters, and jet he knew he was not near his home, but at some less familiar part of the coast. Calling out hastily to the coachman, the carriage came to a stand; General Latourette became aware that the horses had been cut loose, and he saw the fellow, pistol in hand, seated upon one of them. In a few hurried words the negro told the danger of the moment, and pointed to a boat at the water-side, which offered to his master and mistress some hope of escape. Did Mrs. Latourette forget her little ones in that hour of peril? No! She pleaded to go to them, if but to mingle her blood with theirs. The negro assured her they were already sleeping the sleep of death, and implored her to fly with her husband, while yet their lives might be saved. Thus urged, they entered the little boat, and while the strong arm of the husband sustained the drooping wife, and guided the little skiff over the dark waters, the negro went his way, to show the contents of the rifled trunks as proofs of the crime he had in reality shrunk from committing. Gen. Latourette and his wife reached a neighboring island in safety; but exiled forever from their own dear home. Sorrowful, as the childless only can be, the world seemed to them suddenly robbed of its brightness; they could not have borne the trials of their lot, but for the sustaining hand of the Father in Heaven, in whom they had in the days of their prosperity learned to trust. Several years of foreign travel had in a measure recruited the failing health of Gen. Latourette, and time had calmed the poignant grief of his wife. They had come to New York, hoping once more to have a home of their own, sorrowful though that home must be. Bereaved and childless no more, with deep thankfulness they praised the God of Heaven for his most unexpected mercies, and devoted themselves anew to His service. As for Daph, their gratitude to her knew no bounds, and they felt that, for her faithful services, they could find no adequate reward on earth. XV. The End. Gen. Latourette and his wife had once more a home of their own, made bright by the smiles of their affectionate children.