he garden north of the house. He
had come, at last, to a place where the fence at his left ended and
the forest began. He had, a moment before, cast a long look backward
to assure himself the road was empty behind him. He now trudged on,
his eyes fixed ahead.

From behind a low pine-tree, at the end of the fence, two dark figures
glided up to the captain's rear, their steps noiseless in the snow.
One of them caught both his forearms at the same instant, and pulled
them back together, as with grips of iron. A second pair of hands
placed a noose about his wrists, and quickly tightened it. Ere he
could turn, his first assailant released the bound arms to the second,
drew a pistol, and thrust the muzzle close to Peyton's cheek,
whereupon the second man said:

"Your pardon, captain. Come quietly, or you're a dead man!"

CHAPTER XIII.

THE UNEXPECTED.

Peyton's somewhat elate exit from the parlor was followed by a moment
of silence and inertia on the part of the three who remained there.
But Elizabeth's chagrin was speedily translated into anger against
Major Colden.

"Why didn't you fight him?" she demanded of that gentleman, who was
flinching inwardly, but who maintained a pale and haughty exterior.

"What was the use?" he replied. "He's reserved for the gallows. If my
two men were here! Why not send your servants after him? Sam is a
powerful fellow, and Williams is shrewd and strong."

Elizabeth ignored Colden's reply, and answered her own question,
thus:

"It was because you remembered the time he disarmed you, three years
ago."

"You may think so, if you choose," he replied, in the patient manner
of one who quietly endures unjust reproaches when self-defence is
useless.

"You will find refreshments in the dining-room," said Elizabeth,
coldly. "Sam will show you to your room."

"I would rather remain with you," he replied.

"I would rather be alone with my aunt a while."

A deep sigh expressed his dejecting sense of how futile it would be to
oppose her.

"As you will," he then said, and, bowing gravely, left the parlor.

Elizabeth's feelings now burst out.

"Oh," she exclaimed to her aunt, "what a chicken-hearted copy of a
man! And he calls himself a soldier! I wonder where he found the
spirit to volunteer!"

"From you, my dear," replied Miss Sally. "Didn't you urge him to take
a commission?"

"And that rebel fellow had the best of it all through," Elizabeth went
on. "I was to see him l