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336 picturesque couple who were now performing the evolutions of their dramatic dance, with that exquisite ear for time which makes the gracefulness of dancing. At the conclusion, Edward turned to his companion, with some remark on the beauty and air of happiness that pervaded the scene. "Your lovely little valley looks as if even a rough wind had never disturbed its tranquillity." "And yet I remember when for every cottage there stood a smoking heap of ashes; and that little stream "—pointing to a bright brook that ran, touched with the lingering daylight, like a line of amber—"that little stream ran red as the blood which coloured it. Look at the trees, Senhor—they'll witness to the truth of what I am saying." Lorraine looked, and saw, in spite of the luxuriant foliage, indelible marks of the ravages of fire. The trunks were scorched, and the bark destroyed, in many places; and here and there stood leafless branches, black and charred;—one immense but lifeless bough was directly over their heads. "Quiet as our valley seems now," said the once fierce Guerilla, "I can remember being