his best to make
himself necessary to her happiness. So far she seemed to look upon him
as a pleasant friend, but nothing more; yet he was not altogether
discouraged. He thought her worth long and patiently waiting for and
much effort to win.

One afternoon of a beautiful October day the captain remarked that he
had an errand to the town, and asked who would like to go with him.

"I should like it," said Violet, "but cannot very well, as I am to
have a dress fitted."

"And you, Grace, had so long a ride this morning that you are too
tired for another, I presume?" her father said inquiringly.

"Yes, papa," she said; "though I love to ride with you for my escort,
I believe I am too tired for anything but a rest and nap this
afternoon."

"So, father, I'm afraid you can not secure any better company than
mine," remarked Lucilla with an amused little laugh.

"So it seems," he said. "Well, since I can do no better, I will accept
yours if it be offered me."

"It is, then, sir; and I promise to be ready at any hour you appoint."

"We will start early, shortly after leaving the table, that we may
get home before dark," he said, with a look and smile that seemed to
say her company would be very acceptable.

The roads were good, the horses fresh and lively; and they had a
delightful ride going to Union, and also returning--until near home.

Chester had joined them, and the captain, seeing something in a field
belonging to his estate that he wanted to examine, told the others to
ride on and he would follow very shortly.

They did as he requested, but had not gone more than a hundred yards
when a man suddenly rose from behind a bush, pistol in hand, and
fired, taking aim at Lucilla. But Chester had seized her bridle at the
instant of the rising of the figure, and backed both her horse and his
just in time to escape the shot which whizzed past them over the
horses' heads. Chester instantly snatched a pistol from his pocket,
took aim at the miscreant, and fired at the same instant that the
scoundrel sent a second shot in their direction. Then the wounded
murderer dropped and lay still as death, while Chester dismounted,
reeled, and fell by the roadside--dead, as Lucilla thought in wild
distress. She dismounted and went to him.

"Oh, Chester, Chester, where are you hurt?" she cried in sore
distress.

He seemed to be unconscious, and she did not know whether he was dead
or alive. But the next moment her father was besi