Horse-Shoe Robinson: A Tale of the Tory Ascendency

by John Pendleton Kennedy

  CHAPTER IV.

  A MEETING OF LOVERS----SOME INSIGHT INTO THE FUTURE.

  The twilight had subsided and given place to a beautiful night. The moonhad risen above the tree tops, and now threw her level rays upon thebroad face of the massive pile of rocks forming the Fawn's Tower, andlit up with a silvery splendor, the foliage that clothed the steep cliffand the almost perpendicular hill in its neighborhood. On the oppositeside of the river, a line of beech and sycamore trees, that grew almostat the water's edge, threw a dark shadow upon the bank. Through these,at intervals, the bright moonlight fell upon the earth, and upon thequiet and deep stream. The woods were vocal with the whispering noisesthat give discord to the nights of summer; yet, was there a stillness inthe scene which invited grave thoughts, and recalled to Butler's mindsome painful emotions that belonged to his present condition.

  "How complicated and severe are those trials"--such was the current ofhis meditations--"which mingle private grief with public misfortune:that double current of ill which runs, on one side, to the overthrow ofa nation's happiness, and, on the other, to the prostration of theindividual who labors in the cause! What a struggle have I to encounterbetween my duty to my country and my regard for those tender relationsthat still more engross my affections, nor less earnestly appeal to mymanhood for defence! Upon the common quarrel I have already staked mylife and fortune, and find myself wrapt up in its most perilousobligations. That cause has enough in it to employ and perplex thestrongest mind, and to invoke the full devotion of a head and heart thatare exempt from all other solicitude: yet am I embarrassed with personalcares that are woven into the very web of my existence; that haveplanted themselves beside the fountain of my affections, and which, ifthey be rudely torn from me, would leave behind--but a miserable andhopeless wreck. My own Mildred! to what sad trials have I brought youraffection; and how nobly hast thou met them!

  "Man lives in the contentious crowd; he struggles for the palm thatthousands may award, and far-speeding renown may rend the air with theloud huzza of praise. His is the strife of the theatre where the worldare spectators; and multitudes shall glorify his success, or lament hisfall, or cheer him in the pangs of death. But woman, gentle, silent,sequestered--thy triumphs are only for the heart that loves thee--thydeepest griefs have no comforter but the secret communion of thine ownpillow!"

  Whilst Butler, who had now returned beneath the cliff of the Fawn'sTower, was absorbed in this silent musing, his comrade was no lessoccupied with his own cares. The sergeant had acquired much of thatforecast, in regard to small comforts, which becomes, in some degree, aninstinct in those whose profession exposes them to the assaults of windand weather. Tobacco, in his reckoning, was one of the mostindispensable muniments of war; and he was, accordingly, seldom withouta good stock of this commodity. A corn cob, at any time, furnished himthe means of carving the bowl of a pipe; whilst, in his pocket, hecarried a slender tube of reed which, being united to the bowl, formed asmoking apparatus, still familiar to the people of this country, andwhich, to use the sergeant's own phrase, "couldn't be touched forsweetness by the best pipe the very Queen of the Dutch herself eversmoked; and that"--he was in the habit of adding--"must be, as I takeit, about the tenderest thing for a whiff that the Dutchman knowed howto make."

  A flint and steel--part also of his gear--now served to ignite histobacco, and he had been, for some time past, sedately scanning thelength and breadth of his own fancies, which were, doubtless renderedthe more sublime by the mistiness which a rich volume of smoke had shedacross his vision and infused into the atmosphere around his brain.

  "Twelve shillings and nine pence," were the first words which becameaudible to Butler in the depth of his revery. "That, major," said thesergeant, who had been rummaging his pocket, and counting over a handfulof coin, "is exactly the amount I have spent since this time last night.I paid it to the old lady of the Swan at Charlottesville, taking asixpence for mending your bridle rein. Since you must make me paymasterfor our march, I am obliged to square accounts every night. My noddlewont hold two days reckoning. It gets scrimped and flustered with somany numberings, that I lose the count clean out."

  "It is of little consequence, Galbraith," replied Butler, seeking toavoid his companion's interruption.

  "Squaring up, and smoothing off, and bringing out this and that shillingstraight to a penny, don't come natural to me," continued Robinson, toointent upon his reckoning to observe the disinclination of Butler to aparley, "money matters are not in my line. I take to them asdisunderstandingly as Gill Bentley did to the company's books, when theymade him Orderly on the Waccamaw picquet. For Gill, in the first place,couldn't write, and, in the next place, if he could'a done that, henever larnt to read, so you may suppose what a beautiful puzzleificationhe had of it to keep the guard roster straight."

  "Sergeant, look if yonder boat is loose; I shall want it presently,"said Butler, still giving no ear to his comrade's gossip.

  "It is tied by an easy knot to the root of the tree," said Robinson, ashe returned from the examination.

  "Thank you," added Butler with more than usual abstractedness.

  "Something, major, seems to press upon your spirits to-night," said thesergeant, in the kindest tones of inquiry. "If I could lend a hand toput any thing, that mought happen to have got crooked, into its rightplace again, you know, Major Butler, I wouldn't be slow to do it, whenyou say the word."

  "I would trust my life to you, Galbraith, sooner than to any manliving," replied the other, with an affectionate emphasis:--"But youmistake me, I am not heavy at heart, though a little anxious, sergeant,at what has brought me here, comrade," he added as he approached thesergeant, upon whose broad shoulder he familiarly laid his hand, with asmile; "you will keep a fellow soldier's counsel?"

  "As I keep my heart in my body," interrupted Galbraith.

  "I am sure of it; even as you keep your faith to your country my trueand worthy brother," added Butler with animation, "and that is with noless honesty than a good man serves his God. Then, Galbraith, bear itin mind, I have come here for the sake of a short meeting with one thatI love, as you would have a good soldier love the lady of his soul. Youwill hereafter speak of nothing that may fall within your notice. Itconcerns me deeply that this meeting should be secret."

  "Major, I will have neither eyes nor ears, if it consarns you to keepany thing that mought chance to come to my knowledge, private."

  "It is not for myself, sergeant, I bespeak this caution; I have nothingto conceal from you; but there is a lady who is much interested in ourcircumspection. I have given you a long and solitary ride on heraccount, and may hereafter ask other service from you. You shall notfind it more irksome, Galbraith, to stand by a comrade in love, than youhave ever found it in war, and that, I know, you think not much."

  "The war comes naturally enough to my hand," replied Galbraith, "but asfor the love part, major, excepting so far as carrying a message, or, incase of a runaway, keeping off a gang of pestifarious intermeddlers, orwatching, for a night or so, under a tree, or any thing, indeed, in theriding and running, or watching, or scrimmaging line--I say, exceptingthese, my sarvice moughtn't turn to much account. I can't even play afiddle at a wedding, and I've not the best tongue for making headwayamongst the women. Howsomdever, major, you may set me down for avolunteer on the first forlorn hope you may have occasion for."

  "Mr. Lindsay lives on the hill across the river. There are reasons why Icannot go to his house; and his daughter, Galbraith, is an especialfriend to us and to our cause."

  "I begin to see into it," interrupted the sergeant, laughing, "you havea notion of showing the old gentleman the same trick you played off uponLord Howe's provost marshal, when you was lieutenant at Valley Forge,touching your stealing away his prisoner, Captain Roberts. That was anight affair, too. Well, the best wife a man can have, major, is thewoman that takes to him through fire and water. There was ColonelGardiner, that stole his wife just in that way, against all oppositionof both father and mothe
r, and a better woman never stitched up a seam,to my knowledge and belief."

  "I have no thought of such an enterprise, sergeant," said Butler; "ourpurpose, for the present, must be confined to a short visit. We arehouseless adventurers, Galbraith, and have little to offer to sweetheartor wife that might please a woman's fancy."

  "When a woman loves a man, especially a sodger," replied the sergeant,"she sets as little store by house and home as the best of us. Still, itis a wise thing to give the creatures the chance of peace, before youget to tangling them with families. Hark, I hear something likefootsteps on t'other side of the river! Mister Henry must be on hismarch."

  After an interval, a low whistle issued from the opposite bank, and, ina moment, Butler was in the skiff, pushing his way through the sparklingwaters.

  As the small boat, in which he stood upright, shot from the brightmoonlight into the shade of the opposite side, he could obscurelydiscern Mildred Lindsay leaning on her brother's arm, as they both stoodunder the thick foliage of a large beech. And scarcely had the bowstruck upon the pebbly margin, before he bounded from it up the bank,and was, in the next instant, locked in the embrace of one whoseaffection he valued above all earthly possessions.

  When that short interval had passed away, in which neither Mildred norArthur could utter speech; during which the lady leant her head upon herlover's bosom, in that fond familiarity which plighted faith is allowedto justify in the most modest maiden, sobbing the while in the intensityof her emotions, she then at last, as she slowly regained herself-possession, said, in a soft and melancholy voice, in which therewas nevertheless a tone of playfulness:

  "I am a foolish girl, Arthur. I can boast like a blustering coward, whenthere is nothing to fear; and yet I weep, like a true woman, at thefirst trial of my courage."

  "Ah, my dear Mildred, you are a brave girl," replied Butler, as he heldboth of her hands and looked fondly into her face, "and a true and atried girl. You have come kindly to me, and ever, like a blessed andgentle spirit of good, are prompt to attend me through every mischance.It is a long and weary time, love, since last we met."

  "It is very, very long, Arthur."

  "And we are still as far off, Mildred, from our wishes as at first wewere."

  "Even so," said Mildred sorrowfully. "A year of pain drags heavily by,and brings no hope. Oh, Arthur, what have I suffered in the thought thatyour life is so beset with dangers! I muse upon them with a childishfear, that was not so before our last meeting. They rise to disturb mydaily fancies, and night finds them inhabiting my pillow. I was sothankful, that you escaped that dreary siege of Charleston!"

  "Many a poor and gallant fellow soldier there bit his lip with a chafedand peevish temper," said Butler; "but the day will come, Mildred, whenwe may yet carry a prouder head to the field of our country's honor."

  "And your share," interrupted Mildred, "will ever be to march in thefront rank. In spite of all your perils past, your hard service, whichhas known no holiday, your fatigues, that I have sometimes feared wouldbreak down your health, and in spite too, of the claims, Arthur, thatyour poor Mildred has upon you, you are even now again bound upon somebold adventure, that must separate us, ah, perhaps, for ever! Our fatehas malice in it. Ever beginning some fresh exploit!"

  "You would not have your soldier bear himself otherwise than as a trueknight, who would win and wear his lady-love by good set blows whenthere was need for them?"

  "If I were the genius that conjured up this war, I would give my owntrue knight a breathing space. He should pipe and dance between whiles,"replied Mildred sportively.

  "He that puts his sickle into this field amongst the reapers," saidButler, with a thoughtful earnestness, "should not look back from hiswork."

  "No, no, though my heart break while I say it--for, in truth, I am verymelancholy, notwithstanding I force a beggar's smile upon my cheek; no,I would not have you stay or stand, Arthur, until you have seen thiswretched quarrel at an end. I praised your first resolve--loved you forit--applauded and cheered you; I will not selfishly now, for the sake ofmy weak, womanish apprehension, say one word to withhold your arm."

  "And you are still," said Butler, "that same resolute enthusiast that Ifound in the young and eloquent beauty who captivated my worthlessheart, when the war first drew the wild spirits of the country togetherunder our free banner?"

  "The same foolish, conceited, heady, prattling truant, Arthur, thatfirst took a silly liking to your pompous strut, and made a hero to herimagination out of a boasting ensign--the same in all my follies, and inall my faults--only altered in one quality."

  "And pray, what is that one quality?"

  "I will not tell you," said Mildred carelessly. "'Twould make you vainerthan you are."

  "It is not well to hide a kind thought from me, Mildred."

  "Indeed it is not, Arthur. And so, I will muster courage to speak it,"said the confiding girl with vivacity, after a short pause during whichshe hung fondly upon her lover's arm; and then suddenly changing hermood, she proceeded in a tone of deep and serious enthusiasm, "it is,that since that short, eventful and most solemn meeting, I have lovedyou, Arthur, with feelings that I did not know until then were mine. Mybusy fancy has followed you in all your wanderings--painted withstronger hues than nature gives to any real scene the difficulties anddisasters that might cross your path--noted the seasons with a nervousacuteness of remark, from very faint-heartedness at the thought thatthey might blight your health or bring you some discomfort. I have poredover the accounts of battles, the march of armies, the tales ofprisoners relating the secrets of their prisons; studied the plans ofgenerals and statesmen, as the newspapers or common rumor brought themto my knowledge, with an interest that has made those around me say Iwas sadly changed. It was all because I had grown cowardly and fearedeven my own shadow. Oh, Arthur, I am not indeed what I was."

  The solemnity, force and feeling with which Mildred gave utterance tothese words, strangely contrasted with the light and gay tone in whichshe had commenced; but her thoughts had now fallen into a current thatbore her forward into one of those bursts of excited emotion, which werecharacteristic of her temper, and which threw a peculiar energy andeloquence into her manner. Butler, struck by the rising warmth of herenunciation, and swayed in part by the painful reflections to which hertopic gave rise, replied, in a state of feeling scarcely less solemnthan her own--

  "Ah, Mildred," and as he spoke, he parted her hair upon her paleforehead and kissed it, "dearest girl, the unknown time to come has nocup of suffering for me that I would not hold a cheap purchase for onemoment like this. Even a year of painful absence past, and a still moresolicitous one to come, may be gallantly and cheerfully borne whenblessed with the fleeting interval of this night. To hear your faith,which though I never dwelt upon it but with a confidence that I haveheld it most profane to doubt, still, to hear it avowed from your ownlips, now again and again, repeating what you have often breathedbefore, and in letter after letter, written down, it falls upon myheart, Mildred, like some good gift from heaven, specially sent torevive and quicken my resolution in all the toils and labors that yetawait me. There must be good in store for such a heart as thine; and,trusting to this faith, I will look to the future with a buoyanttemper."

  "The future," said Mildred, as she lifted her eyes to the pale moon thatnow sheeted with its light her whole figure, as she and her loverstrayed beyond the shade of the beech, "I almost shudder when I hearthat word. We live but in the present; that, Arthur, is, at least, ourown, poor as we are in almost all beside. That future is a perplexed andtangled riddle--a dreadful uncertainty, in the contemplation of which Igrow superstitious. Such ill omens are about us! My father's inexorablewill, so headstrong, so unconscious of the pain it gives me; his rooted,yes, his fatal aversion to you; my thraldom here, where, like a poorbird checked by a cord, I chafe myself by fluttering on the verge of myprison bounds; and then, the awful perils that continually impend overyour head--all these are more than weak imaginings; they are the
realities of my daily life, and give me, what I am almost ashamed toconfess, a sad and boding spirit."

  "Nay, nay, dearest Mildred! Away with all these unreasonablereckonings!" replied Butler, with a manner that too plainly betrayed thecounterfeit of mirth. "Seclusion has dealt unworthily with you. It hasalmost turned thee into a downright sentimental woman. I will have noneof this stepping to the verge of melancholy. You were accustomed tocheer me with sunny and warm counsel; and you must not forget it wasyourself who taught me to strike aside the waves of fortune with a gladtemper. The fates can have no spite against one so good as thou art!Time may bear us along like a rough trotting horse; and our journey mayhave its dark night, its quagmires, and its jack-o'lanterns, but therewill come a ruddy morning at last--a smoother road, and an easier gait;and thou, my girl, shalt again instruct me how to win a triumph over theills of life."

  "And we will be happy, Arthur, because all around us will be so," addedMildred, catching the current of Butler's thoughts, with that readyversatility which eminently showed the earnestness and devotion of herfeelings--"Ah, may heaven grant this boon, and bring these dreams tolife! I think, Arthur, I should be happier now, if I could but be nearyou in your wanderings. Gladly would I follow you through all thedangers of the war."

  "That were indeed, love, a trial past your faculty to endure. No, no,Mildred, she who would be a soldier's wife, should learn the soldier'sphilosophy--to look with a resigned submission on the present events,and trust to heaven for the future. Your share in this struggle is tocommune with your own heart in solitude, and teach it patience. Rightnobly have you thus far borne that grievous burden! The sacrifice thatyou have made--its ever present and unmitigated weight, silently andsleeplessly inflicting its slow pains upon your free and generousspirit; that, Mildred, is the chief and most galling of my cares."

  "This weary war, this weary war," breathed Mildred, in a pensive underkey, "when will it be done!"

  "The longest troubles have their end," replied Butler, "and men, atlast, spent with the vexations of their own mischief, fly, by a selfishinstinct, into the bosom of peace. God will prosper our enterprise, andbring our battered ship into a fortunate haven."

  "How little like it seems it now!" returned Mildred. "The generalsorrow, alone, might well weigh down the stoutest heart. That causewhich you have made mine, Arthur, to which you have bestowed your life,and which, for your sake," she added proudly, "should have this feeblearm of mine, could it avail, is it not even now trembling on the vergeof ruin? Have not your letters, one after another told me of the sadtrain in which misfortunes have thickened upon the whole people? ofdefeat, both north and south, and, at this very time, of disgracefulmutiny of whole regiments under the very eye of Washington--thatWashington who loves his country and her soldiers as a husband loves hisbride, and a father his children. Have not those, to whom we all lookedfor champions, turned into mere laggards in the war for freedom? Oh,Arthur, do you not remember that these are the thoughts, the very words,which were penned by your own hand, for my especial meditation? How canI but fear that the good end is still far off? How can I but feel someweight upon my heart?"

  "You have grown overwise, Mildred, in these ruminations. I am to blamefor this, that in my peevish humor, vexed with the crosses of the day, Ishould have written on such topics to one so sensitive as yourself."

  "Still it is true, Arthur, all report confirms it."

  "These things do not become your entertainment, Mildred. Leave thepublic care to us. There are bold hearts, love, and strong arms yet tospare for this quarrel. We have not yet so exhausted our mines ofstrength, but that much rough ore still lies unturned to the sun, andmany an uncouth lump of metal remains to be fashioned for serviceableuse. History tells of many a rebound from despondency, so sudden andunreckoned, that the wisest men could see in it no other spring than thedecree of God. He will fight the battle of the weak, and set the rightupon a sure foundation."

  "The country rings," said Mildred, again taking the more cheerful hue ofher lover's hopes, and following out, with an affectionate sympathy, histone of thought, "with anticipation of victory from Gates's southernmarch."

  "That may turn out to be a broken reed," interrupted Butler, as ifthinking aloud, and struck by Mildred's reference to a subject that hadalready engrossed his thoughts; "they may be deceived, Washington wouldhave put a different man upon that service. I would have a leader insuch a war, wary, watchful, humble--diffident as well as brave. I fearGates is not so."

  "Then, I trust, Arthur," exclaimed Mildred, with anxious alacrity, "thatyour present expedition does not connect you with his fortunes!"

  "I neither follow his colors nor partake of his counsels," repliedButler. "Still my motions may not be exempt from the influence of hisfailure or success. The enemy, you are aware, has possessed himself ofevery post of value in South Carolina and Georgia. I go commissioned toadvise with discreet and prudent men upon the means to shake off thisodious domination. So far only, and remotely, too, I am a fellow-laborerwith Gates. There are gallant spirits now afoot, Mildred, to strip thesemasters of their power. My office is to aid their enterprise."

  "If you needs must go, Arthur, I have no word to say. You will leavebehind you an aching heart, that morning, noon, and night, weariesheaven with its prayers for your safety. Alas, I have no other aid togive! How soon--how soon," she said, with a voice that faltered with thequestion, "does your duty compel you to leave me?"

  "To-morrow's sunrise, love, must find me forth upon my way."

  "To-morrow, Arthur? so quickly to part!"

  "I dare not linger; not even for the rich blessing of thy presence."

  "And the utmost length of your journey?"

  "Indeed, I know not. At present my farthest aim is Ninety-six andAugusta. It much depends upon the pleasure of our proud and wilfulmasters."

  Mildred stood for some moments looking upon the ground in profoundsilence. Her bosom heaved with a sad emotion.

  "It is a dangerous duty," said she, at last. "I cannot speak myapprehension at the thought of your risks amongst the fierce andtreacherous men that overrun the country to which you travel."

  "These perils are exaggerated by distance," returned Butler. "A thousandexpedients of protection and defence occur when present, which theabsent cannot fancy. It is a light service, Mildred, and may moresecurely be performed with a gay heart than with a sad one. I pray you,do not suffer that active imagination of yours to invest the every dayadventures of your poor soldier with a romantic interest of which theyare not worthy. I neither slay giants, nor disenchant ladies, nor yokecaptive griffins together. No, no, I shall outrun some over-fed clown,and outwit some simple boobies; and, perhaps, soil my boots in a greatslough, and then hasten back, love, to boast of my marvels to thecredulous ear of my own sweet girl, who, I warrant, will think me a mostpreposterous hero."

  "How can you laugh, Arthur? And yet I would not have you catch myfoolish sadness, either."

  "I have with me, besides, Mildred, a friend good at need; one GalbraithRobinson, a practised and valiant soldier, who sits on yonder bank. Heis to be the companion of my journey; he is shrewd, vigilant andcautious, an inhabitant, moreover, of the district to which I am bound;his wisdom can do much for my success. Then I travel, too, in peacefulguise. My business is more concerned with negotiation than with battle."

  "It is a waylaid path, Arthur," said Mildred, in the same faint voicewith which she had spoken before.

  "Never take it so heavily, my love!" exclaimed Butler, familiarlyseizing her hand, whose trembling now betrayed her agitation,--"it isthe mere sport of the war to be upon a running service, where a lightstratagem or so will baffle a set of dull-pated clodpoles! I scarcelydeem it a venture, to dodge through a forest, where every man flies fromhis neighbor out of mutual distrust. These fellows have broughtthemselves upon such bad terms with their own consciences, that theystart like thieves at the waving of a bulrush."

  "They would be the more cruel," replied Mildred, "if some ill lucksh
ould throw you into their power. If that should happen," she added,and for a while she hesitated to speak, as a tear fell upon Butler'shand--"If that should happen, I cannot bear the thought."

  "They dare offer me no wrong, Mildred. The chances of battle aresufficiently various to compel even the victors to pursue the policy ofhumanity to prisoners. The conqueror of to-day may himself be a captiveto-morrow, and a bloody reprisal would await his barbarity. Again, letme remind you, these are not fit topics for your meditation."

  "They are topics for my heart, Arthur, and will not be driven from it.If your lot should put you in the power of the enemy, the name ofMildred Lindsay, and the relation you bear her, whispered in their ears,may, perhaps, unlock their charity. My father has many friends in thoseranks, and it may be that I am not unknown to some of them: oh, rememberthat!"

  "You have little need to teach me to think or speak of Mildred Lindsay,"said Butler, eagerly. "I cannot forget that name. But I may well doubtits charm upon the savage bulldogs who are now baiting our citizens inCarolina; those ruthless partizans who are poisoning the fountains ofcontentment at every fire-side. It is not a name to conjure evil spiritswith."

  "Major Butler," said Henry, who during this long interval had beenstrolling backward and forward, like a sentinel, at some distance fromhis sister and her lover, and who, with the military punctilio of asoldier on duty, forbore even to listen to what he could not have helpedoverhearing, if it had not been for humming a tune--"Major, I don't liketo make or meddle with things that don't belong to me--but you andMildred have been talking long enough to settle the course of a wholecampaign. And as my father thinks he can't be too careful of Mildred,and doesn't like her walking about after night-fall, I shouldn't besurprised if a messenger were despatched for us--only I think that manTyrrel is hatching some plot with him to-night, and may keep him longerin talk than usual."

  "Who is Tyrrel?" inquired Butler.

  "One that I wish had been in his grave before he had ever seen myfather," answered Mildred with a bitter vehemence. "He is a wickedemissary of the royal party sent here to entrap my dear father intotheir toils. Such as it has ever been his fate to be cursed with fromthe beginning of the war; but this Tyrrel, the most hateful of themall."

  "Alas, alas, your poor father! Mildred, what deep sorrow do I feel thathe and I should be so estranged. I could love him, counsel with him,honor him, with a devotion that should outrun your fondest wish. Hisgenerous nature has been played upon, cheated, abused; and I, in whomfortune and inclination should have raised him a friend, have been madethe victim of his perverted passion."

  "True, true," exclaimed Mildred, bursting into tears, and resting herhead against her lover's breast, "I can find courage to bear all butthis--I am most unhappy;" and for some moments she sobbed audibly.

  "The thought has sometimes crossed me," said Butler, "that I would go toyour father and tell him all. It offends my self-respect to be obligedto practise concealment towards one who should have a right to know allthat concerns a daughter so dear to him. Even now, if I may persuade youto it, I will go hand in hand with you, and, with humble reverence,place myself before him and divulge all that has passed between us."

  "No, no, Arthur, no," ejaculated Mildred with the most earnestdetermination. "It will not come to good. You do not understand myfather's feelings. The very sight of you would rouse him into frenzy;there is no name which might fall upon his ear with deeper offence thanyours. Not yet, Arthur, the time has not yet come."

  "I have been patient," said Butler, "patient, Mildred, for your sake."

  "To try him now," continued Mildred, whose feelings still ran, with aheady impetuosity, upon this newly-awakened and engrossing topic; "now,in the very depth of his bitterest aversion to what he terms an impiousrebellion, and whilst his heart is yet moved with an almostpreternatural hate against all who uphold the cause, and to you,especially, above whose head there hovers, in his belief, some horridimpending curse that shall bring desolation upon him and all who claiman interest in his blood--no, no, it must not be!"

  "Another year of pent-up vexation, self-reproach and anxious concealmentmust then glide by, and perhaps another," said Butler. "Well, I must becontent to bear it, though, in the mean time, my heart bleeds for you,Mildred; it is a painful trial."

  "For good or for evil our vow is now registered in heaven," repliedMildred, "and we must abide the end."

  "I would not have it other than it is, dearest girl, except this sternresolve of your father--not for the world's wealth," said Butler warmly."But you spoke of this Tyrrel--what manner of man is he? How might Iknow him?"

  "To know him would answer no good end, Arthur. His soul is absorbed instratagem, and my dear father is its prey. I too am grievously tormentedby him; but it is no matter, I need not vex your ear with the tale ofhis annoyance."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed Butler with a sudden expression of resentment.

  "All that concerns my father, concerns me," said Mildred. "It is my evildestiny, Arthur, to be compelled to endure the associations of men,whose principles, habits, purposes, are all at war with my own. Alas,such are now my father's constant companions. This man Tyrrel, whosevery name is a cheat put on, I doubt not, to conceal him fromobservation--goes farther than the rest in the boldness of his practice.I have some misgiving that he is better acquainted with the interest youtake in me, than we might suspect possible to a stranger. I fear him.And then, Arthur, it is my peculiar misery that he has lately set up adisgusting pretension to my regard. Oh! I could give him, if my sex hadstrength to strike, the dagger, sooner than squander upon him one kindword. Yet am I obliged by circumstance to observe a strained courtesytowards him, which, frugal as it is, makes me an unwilling hypocrite tomy own heart."

  "Tyrrel," ejaculated Butler, "Tyrrel! I have heard no such name abroad!"then, muttering a deep curse, as he bit his lip with passion, he added,"Oh, that I could face this man, or penetrate his foul purpose! How isit likely I might meet him?"

  "You shall have no temptation to a quarrel," said Mildred; "your quickresentment would but give activity to his venom. For the sake of mypeace, Arthur, and of your own, inquire no further. Time may disclosemore than rash pursuit."

  "Leave that to sister Mildred and myself, major," said Henry, wholistened with great interest to this conversation, "I have my eye uponhim--let that satisfy you; and when sister Mildred puts up the game,depend upon it, I will bring him down."

  "Thanks, thanks, dear Henry! I can trust you for a ready friend, andwill even follow your good advice. A more favorable season for thisconcern may soon arrive; meantime, I will bear this hint in mind."

  Again Henry made an appeal to the lovers to bring their conference to anend. It was a sorrowful moment, the events of which were brief, earnestand impassioned, and such as a dull scribbler, like myself, might easilymar in the telling; yet they were such as zealous and eager natures, whohave loved with an intense and absorbing love, and who have parted intimes of awful danger and uncertainty, may perchance be able to pictureto themselves, when they recall the most impressive incident of theirlives to memory. I will only say, that, in that dark shade where thebeech tree spread his canopy of leaves over the cool bank, and markedhis shadow's profile on the green sward--that grassy sward, on which"the constant moon" lit up the dewy lamps, hung by the spider on bladeand leaf; and in that silent time, when the distant water-fall camefar-sounding on the ear, when sleepless insects chirped in the thicket,and dogs, at some remote homestead, howled bugle-like to the moon; andin that chill hour, when Mildred drew her kerchief close around herdew-besprinkled shoulders, whilst Arthur, fondly and affectionately,half enveloped her in the folds of a military cloak, as he whisperedwords of tender parting in her ear, and imprinted a kiss upon her cheek;and when, moreover, Henry's teeth chattered like a frozen warder's, thenit was, and there, that this enthusiastic girl again pledged herunalterable devotion to the man of her waking thoughts and nightlydreams, come weal, come woe, whatever might betide; and the soldier paidback the
pledge with new ardor and endearment, in the strong languagethat came unstudied from the heart, meaning all that he said, and rifewith a feeling beyond the reach of words. And, after "mony a locked andfond embrace," full tearfully, and lingeringly, and, in phrase oftrepeated, the two bade "farewell," and invoked God's blessing each uponthe other, and then, not without looking back, and breathing a freshprayer of blessings, they separated on their dreary way, Mildredretiring, as she had come, on the arm of her brother, and Butler,springing hurriedly into the skiff and directing its swift passage tothe middle of the stream, where, after a pause to enable him to discernthe last footsteps of his mistress, as her form glided into the obscuredistance, he sighed a low "God bless her," then resumed his oar, andsturdily drove his boat against the "opponent bank."