ose around him. Even the steed of this youthful
soldier seemed to be conscious that he sustained the weight of no
common man. The dragoon sat in the saddle with a firmness and ease
that showed him master of himself and horse, his figure uniting the
just proportions of strength and activity, being tall, round, and
muscular. To this officer Lawton made his report, and side by side
they rode into the field opposite to the cottage.

The officer gave a few hasty orders to his second in command, walked
rapidly into the lawn, and approached the cottage. The dragoon
ascended the steps of the piazza, and had barely time to touch the
outer door, when it opened to his admission.

Frances silently led the way into a vacant parlor, opposite to the
one in which the family were assembled, and turning to the soldier
frankly, placing both her hands in his own, exclaimed:

"Ah, Dunwoodie, how happy on many accounts I am to see you! I have
brought you in here to prepare you to meet an unexpected friend in the
opposite room."

"To whatever cause it may be owing," cried the youth, pressing her
hands to his lips, "I, too, am happy in being able to see you alone.
Frances, the probation[50] you have decreed is cruel; war and distance
may separate us forever."

[Footnote 50: trial.]

"We must submit to the necessity which governs us. But it is not love
speeches I would hear now: I have other and more important matter for
your attention."

"What can be of more importance than to make you mine by a tie that
will be indissoluble![51] Frances, you are cold to me--me--from whose
mind, days of service and nights of alarm have never been able to
banish your image for a single moment."

[Footnote 51: never to be loosened.]

"Dear Dunwoodie," said Frances, softening nearly to tears, "you know
my sentiments. This war once ended, and you may take my hand forever;
but I cannot consent to tie myself to you by any closer union, so long
as you are arrayed against my only brother. Even now, that brother is
waiting your decision to restore him to liberty, or to conduct him to
a probable death."

"Your brother!" cried Dunwoodie, starting and turning pale; "Frances!
what can I do?"

"Do!" she repeated, gazing at him wildly; "would Major Dunwoodie yield
to his enemies his friend, the brother of his betrothed wife? Do you
think I can throw myself into the arms of a man whose hands are
stained with the blood of my only brother!"

"Frances,