delicate
matter--that could only be excused by a certain knowledge of danger--to
awake a gentleman's family at such an hour, even for the purpose of
warning them. Moreover, should my advice prove fruitless, I reflected
that my visit--which could not be made in secret--might aid in bringing
about the very danger I apprehended. A circumstance so extraordinary
could not fail to be noticed by all.

It was thus that I was held in irresolution, while my troop was forming
for the march.

At the last moment, thanks to the thoughtful Holingsworth, a compromise
offered. He suggested that I should send my advice in writing. In that
I could be as explicit as I pleased, and bring before my proteges all
the arguments I might be able to adduce--perhaps more successfully than
if urged by a personal appeal.

My comrade's suggestion was adopted; and in haste, but with a fervour
resulting from my fears, I penned the admonitory epistle.

A trusty messenger was found in one of the _Ayankieados_; who promised,
as soon as the family should be stirring, to carry the letter to its
destination.

With my heart somewhat relieved of its load, though still far from
light, I gave the order to march.

The bugle rang clear and loud, and its cheerful notes, as I sprang into
the saddle, combined with the inspiration borrowed from my buoyant
steed, produced a soothing effect upon my spirits.

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

CAMP GOSSIP.

It was but a short-lived light--a passing gleam--and soon again fell the
shadow, dark as ever. Strive as I might, I could not cast the load that
weighed upon my bosom; reason as I would, I could not account for its
heaviness.

It was natural that a parting like ours should produce pain, and
misgivings as to the future. My life was to be staked in the lottery of
war; I might fall on the field of fight; I might perish by
camp-pestilence--a foe that in the campaign kills more soldiers than
sword or shot--the many perils of flood and field were before me, and it
was natural I should regard the future with a degree of doubtfulness.

But it was not the contemplation of all these dangers that filled me
with such a terrible foreboding. Strange to say, I had a forecast that
I should survive them. It was almost a conviction, yet it failed to
comfort me, for it comprehended not the safety of Isolina. No--but the
contrary. Along with it came the presentiment, that we should never
meet again.

Once or twice, as t