"Wait," said he; and I understood and stopped still.

And so we stood for a moment, he quiet as a carven statue and I
restless but obedient to his wishes. When he stirred I carefully lit
the candles, but I did not look at him till he had donned his cloak
and pulled his hat well over his eyes. Then I turned, and eying him
earnestly, said:

"If I have made a mistake--"

But he quickly interrupted me, averring:

"You have made no mistake. You are a good lad, Philo, and if it had
been you--" He did not say what he would have done, but left the
sentence incomplete and went on: "I know nothing of this Orrin Day,
but what a woman wills she must have. Will you bring this fellow--he
is your friend is he not?--to Juliet's house in the morning? Her
father is set on her being the mistress of the new stone house and we
three will have to reason with him, do you see?"

Astonished, I bowed with something like awe. Was he so great-hearted
as this? Did he intend to give up his betrothed to the man whom she
loved, and even to plead her cause with the father she feared? My
admiration would have its vent, and I uttered some foolish words of
sympathy, which he took with the stately, rather condescending grace
which they perhaps merited; after which, he added again: "You will
come, will you not?" and bowed kindly and retreated towards the door,
while I, abashed and worshipful, followed with protestations that
nothing should hinder me from doing his will, till he had passed
through the doorway and vanished from my sight.

And yet I do not want to do his will or take Orrin to that house. I
might have borne with sad equanimity to see her married to the
Colonel, for he is far above me, but to Orrin--ah, that is a bitter
outlook, and I must have been a fool to have promised aught that will
help to bring it about. Still, am I not her sworn friend, and if she
thinks she can be happy with him, ought I not to do my share towards
making her so?

I wonder if the Colonel knows that Orrin too has been building himself
a house?

I did not sleep last night, and I have not eaten this morning.
Thoughts robbed me of sleep, and a visit from Orrin effectually took
away from me whatever appetite I might have had. He came in almost at
daybreak. He looked dishevelled and wild, and spoke like a man who had
stopped more than once at the tavern.

"Philo," said he, "you have annoyed me by your curiosity for more than
a year; now you can do me a favor. Wi