ks of twelve,'
'No, it is struck--'
'Indeed I heard it not.'"

_Hamlet._

The night had closed in--that night of so vital importance to his father's
destiny--and Gerald sat alone in a small lower room, his heart beating
high with hope, that he should contribute to his father's rescue.

He was lost in thought, when a firm hand laid on his shoulder roused him
from his abstracted state. He turned his head, and saw, to his surprise,
Mark Maywood by his side. The young man wore a calmer, clearer brow,
although his usual cold, stern, almost determined expression still
pervaded it.

"Comrade," said Maywood with much appearance of frankness in his manner,
"I have spoken roughly without cause; I crave your pardon."

Gerald heard this unexpected address with great astonishment; and, before
he answered, paused in much embarrassment.

"Let us be frank," continued Mark. "Had we been so before, much ill will
and evil blood might have been spared. I have only divined your feelings
from my own. You have not seen the pretty daughter of our colonel with
admiration. Nor have I."

Gerald started with again rising wrath, but his rival interrupted him.

"Bear with me for a while," he continued, "and hear me out. You have been
here long. I am but a new-comer. You have the prior claim. Perhaps she
returns your love. Had I known of this before--and as it is I have but
guessed it, on witnessing your anxiety to hold this watch in the court,
beneath her window--I had withdrawn, as is my duty. And now, comrade, I
return to offer you the sacrifice of my newborn admiration, and at the
same time my friendship."

"What you say seems fair and straightforward, Master Maywood," said
Gerald, overcome by the frank manner of the young soldier, "and I thank
you for this generosity and truth. My suspicions, then, did not deceive
me? You love her, and you sought to see her to-night?"

"I did," said Maywood.

"And she, did she return your love? Did she herself accede to this
meeting?"

Mark shook his head with a faint, doubtful smile, but gave no answer.
Gerald's brow again grew gloomy, and he sank his head between his hands.

"Come! come! no more of this," pursued the other young soldier, with a
cordiality of manner which Gerald had never before witnessed in his dark,
stern aspect. "Let all be forgiven and forgotten. Come, pledge me in this
one cup. These drinkings of toasts, as it is called, these ple