ueaking shrilly, and banners waving, a man
marches as lightly as if he had wings. To-day the martial music is hushed
by the terrible woe brought upon us by that Hebrew villain. True, Hosea
is one of his race yet, though I cannot forget that fact, I must admit
that he is a genuine soldier, a model for the rising generation. Tell him
what I think of him on this score. Now bid farewell to Kasana quickly and
follow the men; the little side-door in the wall is open." He turned
towards the house as he spoke, and Ephraim held out his hand to bid the
young widow farewell.

She clasped it, but hurriedly withdrew her own, exclaiming anxiously:
"How burning hot your hand is! You have a fever!"

"No, no," faltered the youth, but even while speaking he fell upon his
knees and the veil of unconsciousness descended upon the sufferer's soul,
which had been the prey of so many conflicting emotions.

Kasana was alarmed, but speedily regained her composure and began to cool
his brow and head by bathing them with water from the neighboring pond.
Yes, in his boyhood the man she loved must have resembled this youth. Her
heart throbbed more quickly and, while supporting his head in her hands,
she gently kissed him.

She supposed him to be unconscious, but the refreshing water had already
dispelled the brief swoon, and he felt the caress with a thrill of
rapture. But he kept his eyes closed, and would gladly have lain for a
life-time with his head pillowed on her breast in the hope that her lips
might once more meet his. But instead of kissing him a second time she
called loudly for aid. He raised himself, gave one wild, ardent look into
her face and, ere she could stay him, rushed like a strong man to the
garden gate, flung it open, and followed the troops. He soon overtook the
rear ranks, passed on in advance of the others, and at last reached their
leader's side and, calling his uncle by name, gave his own. Hosea, in his
joy and astonishment, held out his arms, but ere Ephraim could fall upon
his breast, he again lost consciousness, and stalwart soldiers bore the
senseless lad into the tent the quartermaster had already pitched on a
dune by the sea.

CHAPTER V.

It was midnight. A fire was blazing in front of Hosea's tent, and he sat
alone before it, gazing mournfully now into the flames and anon over the
distant country. Inside the canvas walls Ephraim was lying on his uncle's
camp-bed.

The surgeon who attended the soldiers