ill readily guess that
Pauline watched the man, and Roderick the woman. Of the two, the latter
was far more intent in his observation, the former looking on in rather
a dreamy way.

At length, the officer and the amazon turned their horses' heads on
their backward journey. As they did so, they both happened to look
directly toward the town. Whatever it was that drew their attention, it
was sufficiently interesting to cause them to stop and confer together.
Then the lady made a sudden movement as if to advance straight forward,
but she was restrained by her attendant, who pointing to the guns on the
ramparts, made her understand that she must keep out of range.

It was at this point that Hardinge abruptly broke silence.

"I thought so," was his brief remark, uttered almost sternly between his
teeth.

Pauline did not appear to hear him.

"I knew I was not mistaken," he continued a little louder.

Pauline caught the word and looked up in wonder.

"I have a right to remember her."

"What do you mean, Roddy?"

"It is the very same riding habit?"

Pauline was now perfectly astonished. Hardinge's face was aglow.

"I would know that form in a thousand."

"What form?"

"And that carriage."

"Roddy, you don't intend to say?"

"I tell you it is Zulma Sarpy."

"You are jesting."

"Look, she is waving her handkerchief."

And so she was. She twisted and brandished it, and, in doing so,
agitated her horse to that extent that he fell back on his haunches and
pawed with his front feet. Roderick took off his cap and remained
uncovered a moment. Pauline shouted for joy and fluttered her
handkerchief in return. Singleton doffed his plumed hat, bowing low over
his holsters. It was a moment of exquisite excitement. But only a
moment. Swift as the wind the riders dashed away over the plain. Turning
suddenly, Hardinge recognized the danger of his position.

"Let us go, Pauline," he said, "we may be seen by our men and it would
be very awkward."

They hurried down the slope of the Citadel and entered into the town
without almost exchanging a word. Pauline was radiant. Roderick was
somewhat sullen. Gradually, however, they both resumed their composure
and sauntered for another half-hour together very agreeably, but talking
of quite indifferent subjects.

"That spectacle was more than we had bargained for," said Pauline,
taking off her gloves and laying her furs on the little central table of
her chamber. "I certainly