was tenderly lifted, and when she was told that she should be
taken home without delay, and would soon see Oriana, she smiled like a
pleased child, and ceased complaining.

Beverly stood beside his horse, with his hand clasped in Harold's. The
rain poured down upon them, and the single watchfire, a little apart
from which the silent sentinel stood leaning on his rifle, threw its
rude glare upon their saddened faces.

"Good bye, old friend," said Beverly. "We have met strangely to-night,
and sadly. Pray heaven we may not meet more sadly on the battle-field."

"Tell Oriana," replied Harold, "that I am with her in my prayers." He
had not spoken of her before, although Beverly had mentioned that she
was at the old manor house, and well. "I have not heard from Arthur," he
continued, "for I have been much about upon scouting parties since I
came, but I doubt not he is well, and I may find a letter when I return
to camp. Good bye; and may our next meeting see peace upon the land."

They parted, and the carriage, with Beverly riding at its side, moved
slowly into the darkness, and was gone.

Harold returned into the farm-house, and found Moll seated where he had
left her, and still gazing fixedly at the floor. He did not disturb her,
but paced the floor slowly, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. After a
silence of some minutes, the woman spoke, without looking up.

"Have they gone?"

"Yes."

"She is dying, ain't she?"

"I fear she is very ill."

"I tell you, she's dying--and it's better that she is."

She then relapsed into her former mood, but after a while, as Harold
paused at the window and looked out, she spoke again.

"Will it soon be day?"

"Within an hour, I think," replied Harold. "Do you go back at daylight?"

"Yes."

"You have no horse?"

"You'll lend me one, won't you? If you don't, I don't care; I can walk."

"We will do what we can for you. What is your business at the camp?"

"Never mind," she answered gruffly. And then, after a pause, she asked:

"Is there a man named Searle in your army--Philip Searle?"

"Nay, I know not. There may be. I have never heard the name. Do you seek
such a person? Is he your friend, or relative?"

"Never mind," she said again, and then was silent as before.

With the approach of dawn, the sentry challenged an advancing troop,
which proved to be the relief picket guard. Harold saluted the officer
in command, and having left orders respectively with their
sub