e on an illusion. Aside from the effect on her heart, of the
continuance of the delusion, it would doubtless affect her outward
circumstances, by leading her to break her engagement with Colden. An
immediate discovery of the truth, moreover, by creating such a
revulsion of feeling as would make her hate him, would leave her heart
in a state for speedy healing. This disclosure would be a devilishly
unpleasant thing to make, but a soldier and a gentleman must meet
unpleasant duties unflinchingly.

He lay a long time awake, disturbed by thoughts of the task before
him. When he did sleep, it was to dream that the task was in progress,
then that it was finished but had to be begun anew, then that
countless obstacles arose in succession to hinder him in it. Dawn
found him little refreshed in mind, but none the worse in body. He
found, on arising, that he could walk without aid from the stick, and
he required no help in dressing himself. Looking towards the river, he
saw the British vessel heading for New York. But that sight gave him
little comfort, thanks to the ordeal before him, in contemplating
which he neglected to put on his sword and scabbard, and so descended
to breakfast without them.

That meal offered no opportunity for the disclosure, the aunt being
present throughout. Immediately after breakfast, the two ladies went
for their customary walk. While they were breasting the wind, between
two rows of box in the garden, Miss Sally spoke of Major Colden's
intention to return for Elizabeth at the end of a week, and said,
"'Twill be a week this evening since you arrived. Is he to come for
you to-day or to-morrow?"

"I don't know," said Elizabeth, shortly.

"But, my dear, you haven't prepared--"

"I sha'n't go back to-day, that is certain. If Colden comes before
to-morrow, he can wait for me,--or I may send him back without me, and
stay as long as I wish."

"But he will meet Captain Peyton--"

"It can be easily arranged to keep him from knowing Captain Peyton is
here. I shall look to that."

Miss Sally sighed at the futility of her inquisitorial fishing. Not
knowing Elizabeth's reason for saving the rebel captain, she had once
or twice thought that the girl, in some inscrutable whim, intended to
deliver him up, after all. She had tried frequently to fathom her
niece's purposes, but had never got any satisfaction.

"I suppose," she went on, desperately, "if you go back to town, you
will leave the captain in Wil