ted to do so at Elmhurst,
but something seemed to seal my lips. There is now no longer any excuse
for silence. I--I wish you to know, and then, perhaps, you may feel more
kindly disposed toward me."

"Your father is aware--"

"No, not even my father. He is scarcely conscious of what is going on
about him. Peter knows, and Tonepah," with a wave of her hand into the
dark shadows.

"They are with you, then--keeping guard over him?"

"Yes; they have known from the beginning; not everything, of course, for
that was not necessary. Peter is an old servant, silent and trustworthy.
He would never question any act of mine, while the Indian has reason to
be grateful and loyal to me. Whatever indiscretion, Major Lawrence, I may
have been guilty of, I have gone nowhere unaccompanied by these two. You
will believe that?"

"Yes, and whatever else you tell me."

"That now must necessarily be the entire story. As I proceed you will be
convinced, I think, that only a true confidence in you would enable me to
speak with such frankness. I--I know of no one else in whom I could
confide, and--and the time has come when I must have help--the help of a
friend. I should have explained to my father--indeed intended to do
so--but now he is helpless to aid me. There is no one else I feel able to
trust. I--I--you were in my thought to-night; I--I am not sure I did not
even pray for your coming, and--and then God sent you."

My hand sought hers, and held it against my horse's mane.

"Tell it in your own way, dear," I whispered.

She flashed one glance into my face, leaving her hand in mine, while our
horses took a dozen strides.

"It will not take long," she began, in so low a voice that I leaned
forward to listen, "and you already know many of the characters, and can
judge their motives. I have been strangely situated since the
commencement of this war, only, surely ours is not the only family
divided in its loyalty. My father was a King's officer, and felt it his
duty to serve the crown. While he has said little, yet I know that down
in his heart his sympathies have been with the Colonies. Those of my
brother were openly from the start, and my father has never attempted to
interfere with his actions. They talked it all over together, and Eric
chose his own course. Only Alfred Grant made trouble, presuming on what
he termed our engagement, and endeavored to force my brother to join the
King's troops. The two quarrelled bitterly, and Eri