ous manner, and a little anxiously. Maud
hesitated, as if to muster her thoughts, ere she replied.

"My feelings are against rebellion," she said, at length; "though I
fear my reason tells me there is no such thing as a natural sovereign.
If the parliament had not given us the present family, a century since,
by what rule of nature would it be our princes, Bob?"

"Ah! these are some of the flights of your rich imagination, my dear--
Maud; it is parliament that has made them our princes, and parliament,
at least, is our legal, constitutional master."

"That is just the point in dispute. Parliament may be the rightful
governors of England, but are they the rightful governors of America?"

"Enough," said the captain, rising from table--"We will not discuss
such a question, just as we are about to separate. Go, my son; a duty
that is to be performed, cannot be done too soon. Your fowling-piece
and ammunition are ready for you, and I shall take care to circulate
the report that you have gone to pass an hour in the woods, in search
of pigeons. God bless you, Bob; however we may differ in this matter--
you are my son--my _only_ son--my dear and well-beloved boy--God
for ever bless you!"

A profound stillness succeeded this burst of nature, and then the young
man took his leave of his mother and the girls. Mrs. Willoughby kissed
her child. She did not even weep, until she was in her room; then,
indeed, she went to her knees, her tears, and her prayers. Beulah, all
heart and truth as she was, wept freely on her brother's neck; but
Maud, though pale and trembling, received his kiss without returning
it; though she could not help saying with a meaning that the young man
had in his mind all that day, ay, and for many succeeding days--"be
careful of yourself, and run into no unnecessary dangers; God bless
you, dear, _dear_ Bob."

Maud alone followed the movements of the gentlemen with her eyes. The
peculiar construction of the Hut prevented external view from the south
windows; but there was a loop in a small painting-room of the garret
that was especially under her charge. Thither, then, she flew, to ease
her nearly bursting heart with tears, and to watch the retiring
footsteps of Robert. She saw him, accompanied by his father and the
chaplain, stroll leisurely down the lawn, conversing and affecting an
indifferent manner, with a wish to conceal his intent to depart. The
glass of the loop was open, to admit the air, and Maud