ch a real terror at her
heart? But Bram said nothing; only, as he went out, she caught him
looking at her with such pitiful eyes. "What did he mean?" She turned
coward then, and could not voice the question. Joris was tenderly
explicit. He said to her at once, "'The Dauntless' sailed this morning.
Oh, my little one, sorry I am for thee!"

"Is _he_ gone?" Very low and slow were the words; and Joris only
answered, "Yes."

Without any further question or remark, she went away. They were amazed
at her calmness. And for some minutes after she had locked the door of
her room, she stood still in the middle of the floor, more like one that
has forgotten something, and is trying to remember, than a woman who has
received a blow upon her heart. No tears came to her eyes. She did not
think of weeping, or reproaching, or lamenting. The only questions she
asked herself were, "How am I to get life over? Will such suffering kill
me very soon?"

Joris and Lysbet talked it over together. "Cohen told me," said Joris,
"that Captain Hyde called to bid him good-by. He said, 'He is a very
honourable young man, a very grateful young man, and I rejoice that I
was helpful in saving his life.' Then I asked him in what ship he was to
sail, and he said 'The Dauntless.' She left her moorings this morning
between nine and ten. She carries troops to Kingston, Captain Earle in
command; and I heard that Captain Hyde has a year's furlough."

Lysbet drew her lips tight, and said nothing. The last shadow of her own
dream had departed also, but it was of her child she thought. At that
hour she hated Hyde; and, after Joris had gone, she said in low, angry
tones, over and over, as she folded the freshly ironed linen, "I wish
that Neil had killed him!" About two o'clock she went to Katherine. The
girl opened her door at once to her. There was nothing to be said, no
hope to offer. Joris had seen Hyde embark; he had heard Mrs. Gordon and
the colonel bid him farewell. Several of his brother officers, also, and
the privates of his own troop, had been on the dock to see him sail. His
departure was beyond dispute.

And even while she looked at the woeful young face before her, the
mother anticipated the smaller, festering sorrows that would spring from
this great one,--the shame and mortification the mockery of those who
had envied Katherine; the inquiries, condolences, and advices of
friends; the complacent self-congratulation of Batavius, who would be
certa