e bed of the waggon.
Over these had been thrown some coarse garments, and pieces of
bed-clothing--blankets, counterpanes, and a bolster or two. Near the
forward end, a chest of large dimensions stood higher than the rest; and
upon the lid of this a piece of tallow-candle was burning, in the neck
of an old bottle! Between the flame of the candle and my eyes a figure
intervened, shadowing the rearward part of the waggon. It was a female
figure; and, dim as was the light, I could trace the outlines of a
lovely _silhouette_, that could be no other than that of Lilian Holt. A
slight movement of the head brought the gleam of golden-hair under the
flickering flame; and the features were seen _en profile_. They were
hers. It was Lilian who occupied the waggon. She was alone--though in
front of the vehicle, I could see forms not distant from where she sat.
Young men were loitering there. Ardent glances were directed towards
her. She appeared desirous of shunning them. She held in her hands a
book. One might have fancied she was reading it: for it was open. But
the light fell sparingly on the page; and her stealthy glances towards
it told, something else than the book was occupying her attention. A
piece of detached paper that gleamed whiter between the leaves, was
evidently the object of her solicitude. It was the writing upon that
she was trying to decipher. I watched with eager glance. I noted every
movement of the fair reader. Marian had joined me. We both watched
together.

It required an effort to restrain ourselves from speech. A word would
have been worth all this writing; but it might also have ruined
everything. They who stood in front of the waggon might hear that word.
It was not spoken. Lilian was evidently embarrassed by the presence of
these young men; and cast uneasy glances towards them as she read.
Perhaps the restraint thus placed upon her hindered any violent show of
emotion, which the writing on the paper might have called forth. A
short suppressed sigh, as she finished reading; a quick searching glance
among the groups in front--another, shot stealthily towards the rear of
the waggon--this was all in her manner that might have appeared unusual.
I waited till her eyes were again turned rearward; and then, gently
parting the canvas flaps, I held Marian's note between my fingers inside
the curtain. The apparition of my red-hand did not cause an alarm. The
poem had paved the way for the m