he silence more profound. I looked wistfully at the
maid beside me, chary of intrusion into the intimacy of her silence.
Presently her vague eyes met mine, and, as though I had spoken, she
said: "What is it?"

"Only this: I am sorry you are pledged."

"Why, cousin?"

"It is unfair."

"To whom?"

"To you. Bid him undo it and release you."

"What matters it?" she said, dully.

"To wed, one should love," I muttered.

"I cannot," she answered, without moving. "I would I could. This night
has witched me to wish for love--to desire it; and I sit here
a-thinking, a-thinking.... If love ever came to me I should think it
would come now--ere the dawn; here, where all is so dark and quiet and
close to God.... Cousin, this night, for the first moment in all my
life, I have desired love."

"To be loved?"

"No, ... to love."

I do not know how long our silence lasted; the faintest hint of silver
touched the sky above the eastern forest; a bird awoke, sleepily
twittering; another piped out fresh and clear, another, another; and, as
the pallid tint spread in the east, all the woodlands burst out ringing
into song.

In the house a door opened and a hoarse voice muttered thickly. Dorothy
paid no heed, but I rose and stepped into the hallway, where servants
were guiding the patroon to bed, and a man hung to the bronze-cannon
post, swaying and mumbling threats--Colonel Claus, wig awry, stock
unbuckled, and one shoe gone. Faugh! the stale, sour air sickened me.

Then a company of gentlemen issued from the dining-hall, and, as I
stepped back to the porch to give them room, their gray faces were
turned to me with meaningless smiles or blank inquiry.

"Where's my orderly?" hiccoughed Sir John Johnson. "Here, you, call my
rascals; get the chaises up! Dammy, I want my post-chaise, d' ye hear?"

Captain Campbell stumbled out to the lawn and fumbled about his lips
with a whistle, which he finally succeeded in blowing. This
accomplished, he gravely examined the sky.

"There they are," said Dorothy, quietly; and I saw, in the dim morning
light, a dozen horsemen stirring in the shadows of the stockade. And
presently the horses were brought up, followed by two post-chaises, with
sleepy post-boys sitting their saddles and men afoot trailing rifles.

Colonel Butler came out of the door with Magdalen Brant, who was half
asleep, and aided her to a chaise. Guy Johnson followed with Betty
Austin, his arm around her, and climbed in aft