nd pulverized. The mill yawned all ruinous with unglazed
frames; the yard was thickly bestrewn with stones and brickbats; and
close under the mill, with the glittering fragments of the shattered
windows, muskets and other weapons lay here and there. More than one
deep crimson stain was visible on the gravel, a human body lay quiet on
its face near the gates, and five or six wounded men writhed and moaned
in the bloody dust.

Miss Keeldar's countenance changed at this view. It was the after-taste
of the battle, death and pain replacing excitement and exertion. It was
the blackness the bright fire leaves when its blaze is sunk, its warmth
failed, and its glow faded.

"This is what I wished to prevent," she said, in a voice whose cadence
betrayed the altered impulse of her heart.

"But you could not prevent it; you did your best--it was in vain," said
Caroline comfortingly. "Don't grieve, Shirley."

"I am sorry for those poor fellows," was the answer, while the spark in
her glance dissolved to dew. "Are any within the mill hurt, I wonder? Is
that your uncle?"

"It is, and there is Mr. Malone; and, O Shirley, there is Robert!"

"Well" (resuming her former tone), "don't squeeze your fingers quite
into my hand. I see. There is nothing wonderful in that. We knew he, at
least, was here, whoever might be absent."

"He is coming here towards us, Shirley!"

"Towards the pump, that is to say, for the purpose of washing his hands
and his forehead, which has got a scratch, I perceive."

"He bleeds, Shirley. Don't hold me. I must go."

"Not a step."

"He is hurt, Shirley!"

"Fiddlestick!"

"But I _must_ go to him. I wish to go so much. I cannot bear to be
restrained."

"What for?"

"To speak to him, to ask how he is, and what I can do for him."

"To tease and annoy him; to make a spectacle of yourself and him before
those soldiers, Mr. Malone, your uncle, et cetera. Would he like it,
think you? Would you like to remember it a week hence?"

"Am I always to be curbed and kept down?" demanded Caroline, a little
passionately.

"For his sake, yes; and still more for your own. I tell you, if you
showed yourself now you would repent it an hour hence, and so would
Robert."

"You think he would not like it, Shirley?"

"Far less than he would like our stopping him to say good-night, which
you were so sore about."

"But that was all play; there was no danger."

"And this is serious work; he must be unmolested."

"