he twilight.

"The others are gone on to Dan, to see the moon rise," she said
hesitatingly.

"We will follow them there in a moment," said Donald. "I have a fancy
for telling you that story."

He laughed, a nervous, mirthless kind of laugh, and slipped his rifle
to his other hand.

"She had a lover in the army, you understand. She was waiting here
with hundreds of others until 'the cruel war should cease.' One day
when there had been a great battle, a messenger came to Beersheba,
bringing news for her. He brought a letter, and she came across the
little court there at Beersheba, and received it from the messenger's
own hand. She tore it open and read the one line written there. Then
the white page fluttered to the ground. She placed her hands upon her
heart as if the bullet had pierced her. 'Oh, Shiloh! Shiloh!' That was
all she said or did. The ball from old Shiloh did its work. The next
day they buried her up there under the cedars. The letter had but one
line: 'Shot at Shiloh, fatally,' and signed by the captain of the
company who had promised to send news of the battle. Just a line; but
enough to break a heart. Hearts break easily, sweetheart."

She looked at him with her earnest eyes full of tears.

"Do you think hers broke?" she asked. "I do not. She merely went to
him."

"As I should go to you, if you were to die, because I cannot live
without you."

"Hush! I am nothing to you now. Only a friend who loves you, and would
help you if she could, but she is powerless."

"O Alice, do not say that. Do not give me over in that hopeless way to
ruin. Do not abandon me now."

"Donald," the voice was very low, and sweet, and--_strong_. "There was
a time I thought to help you. I did my best and--failed. It is too
late now. I am married. You who could not put aside your passion for
the girl whose heart was yours, and whom you loved sincerely, could
not, assuredly, put it by for the woman whose love, and life, and duty
are pledged to another. Yet, you know I feel for you. You know what it
is to be tempted, so alas! do I. Wait! stand back. There is this
difference. You know what it is to _yield_; but I have that little
mound back there"--she nodded toward the little flower-decked
grave,--"the dead help me, the sleeper underneath is my strength. If
_I_ were dead now, I would come to you, and help you. Do that which,
living, I failed in doing. Come, now; let us go on and see yon moon
rise over Dan. The others have g