For an instant that gracious image which had so long been the light of his waking and his sleeping dreams, seemed to retire, and another to take her place; another, different, yet hardly less lovely.
For an instant, and for the second time, visions of a new domestic paradise,—of beautiful children who should call him father,—of a daughter whose name should be Estelle,—of life’s evening spent amid the amenities of a refined and happy home,—flitted before his imagination, and importuned desire. But they speedily vanished, and that other transcendent image returned and resumed its place.
Ah! it was so life-like, so real, so near and positive in its presence, that no other could be its substitute! For no other could his heart’s chalice overflow with immortal love. Had she not said,—
“And dear as sacramental wine
To dying lips was all she said,”—
had she not said, “I shall see you, though you may not see me?” Vance took the words into his believing heart, and thenceforth they were a reality from the sense of which he could not withdraw himself, and would not have withdrawn himself if he could.
He looked again at his watch, and re-entered that inner office of the War Department, to which none but those high in government confidence were often admitted.
“We have just received a reply to your inquiry,” said the clerk. “Mr. Ratcliff of New Orleans made his escape from Fort Lafayette ten days ago. The Department has taken active measures to have him rearrested.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE LAWYER AND THE LADY.
“The Devil is an ass.”—Old Proverb.