se my father's opposition. I
trust to time, and by filial obedience to win him. It is a fearful thing,
Calhoun, to be disowned by one's own father, and by a father who loves one
as I know my father loves me. It would kill him if I left him, and the
knowledge would make me unhappy, even with you. Calhoun, do you love me?"

"As my life," he answered, clasping her once more to his breast. "And to
be banished entirely from your presence is more than I can bear. It is
cruel of you to ask it."

"Calhoun, did you love me when I aided you to escape?"

"You know I did, why do you ask?"

"Yet you left me for two long years, left me to fight for principles which
you held dear. What if, for love of me, I had asked you to resign from the
army, to forsake the cause for which you were fighting?"

"I couldn't have done it, Joyce. I couldn't have done it, even for your
love. But you would not ask me to do such a craven act."

"And yet you ask me to forsake my father, to be false to what I know is
right."

"Joyce, how can I answer you? I am dumb before your logic. But how can I
pass the weary years which are to come?"

"You have passed two since we parted, and your college years need not be
weary. They will not be weary. Have faith. When father learns how good,
how noble, how true you are, he will give his consent. And Mark, my
brother Mark, he will plead for me, I know."

"Joyce, I am like a criminal awaiting pardon--a pardon which may never
come."

"Don't say that. Now, Calhoun, we must part. Remember you are not to try
to see me or write to me. But the moment father relents I will say, Come.
It will not be long. Now go."

Calhoun clasped her once more in his arms, pressed the farewell kiss on
her lips, and left her.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"COME."

Calhoun found his life in the university delightful. He was a good
student, and a popular one. The black-haired young Kentuckian who had
ridden with Morgan was a favorite in society. Many were the languishing
glances cast upon him by the beauties of Cambridge and Boston, but he was
true to Joyce. In the still hours of the night his thoughts were of her,
and he wondered when he would hear that word "Come." But months and years
passed, and no word came. He heard that her father was still obdurate. He
would wait until his college course was finished, and then, come what
would, he would see Joyce and try to shak