ort and sweet--at least
in promise--being no more than these few words: "Darling, the dike where
first we met, an hour after sunset."

Mary never doubted that her duty was to go; and at the time appointed
she was there, with firm knowledge of her own mind, being now a loving
and reasonable woman. It was just a year since she had saved the life
of Robin; and patience, and loneliness, and opposition, had enlarged and
ennobled her true and simple heart. No lord in the land need have looked
for a purer or sweeter example of maidenhood than this daughter of a
Yorkshire farmer was, in her simple dress, and with the dignity of love.
The glen was beginning to bestrew itself with want of light, instead
of shadows; and bushy places thickened with the imperceptible growth of
night. Mary went on, with excitement deepening, while sunset deepened
into dusk; and the color of her clear face flushed and fleeted under the
anxious touch of love, as the tint of a delicate finger-nail, with any
pressure, varies. But not very long was she left in doubt.

"How long you have been! And oh, where have you been? And how much
longer will you be?" Among many other words and doings she insisted
chiefly on these points.

"I am a true-blue, as you may see, and a warrant-officer already," he
said, with his old way of smiling at himself. "When the war begins again
(as it must--please God!--before many weeks are over), I shall very
soon get my commission, and go up. I am quite fit already to command a
frigate."

Mary was astonished at his modesty; she thought that he ought to be an
admiral at least, and so she told him; however, he knew better.

"You must bear in mind," he replied, with a kindly desire to spare
her feelings, "that until a change for the better comes, I am under
disadvantages. Not only as an outlaw--which has been upon the whole
a comfort--but as a suspected criminal, with warrant against him, and
reward upon him. Of course I am innocent; and everybody knows it, or at
least I hope so, except the one who should have known it best."

"I am the person who should know it best of all," his true love
answered, with some jealousy. "Explain yourself, Robin, if you please."

"No Robin, so please you, but Mr. James Blyth, captain of the foretop,
then cockswain of the barge, and now master's mate of H. M. ship of the
line Belleisle. But the one who should have trusted me, next to my own
love, is my father, Sir Duncan Yordas."

"How you are