egard duty--the laws and precepts of his God! then the claims of his
suffering country; and lastly, the ties of nature and the tenderer
feelings of his heart. Ellen, think how many have torn themselves from
weeping wives and clinging children, and cast their warm love far from
them. The call to patriots is imperative. I have now nothing to detain
me here: it is my duty to lend my arm toward supporting our common
liberty. Do not fear for me, Ellen, my dear sister; remember that the
strong arm of all-seeing God is ever around us, to guard in time of
danger!" He clasped her tenderly to his heart, then placed her in her
husband's arms.

"Florence, if not again in Texas, I hope we shall soon meet, in more
peaceful hours, in Louisiana; if not, I pray God that you and Stewart
may be as happy as I once hoped to be." He pressed her hand warmly,
and returning the long, tight clasp of Mr. Stewart, mounted his horse
and rode slowly away.

"Mother," said Elliot, "Uncle Frank has not taken the right road
toward home."

"Hush, Elliot!" she sadly answered, while her tears gushed anew; "he
has gone by his Mary's grave."

On that hour, spent at the early tomb of the "loved and lost" Mary,
we will not intrude: it is rendered sacred by its deep, unutterable
anguish.

Nearly a week passed, and Dr. Bryant had hurried on, riding through
the long, long nights, and only pausing at times to recruit his jaded
steed. He had arrived at within two days' ride of San Antonio, and
too wearied to proceed, stopped as night closed in, and picketing his
horse wrapped his cloak about him, and threw himself under a large
spreading oak to rest, and, if possible, to sleep. An hour passed
on: still he lay looking up to the brilliant sky above. Perfect quiet
reigned around, and he felt soothed inexpressibly. Overcome with
fatigue, sleep stole on, and momentary oblivion of the past was
granted. He was startled from his slumber by the neighing of his
horse; and rising lightly, drew forth his pistols, cocked one, and
turned in the direction whence came the sound of approaching hoofs.
The neighing was answered by the advancing steed, and soon the figure
of both rider and horse was dimly seen; for the moon was not yet
risen, and the pale light of the stars but faintly assisted the
vision.

"Who comes there?" asked Dr. Bryant, throwing off his cloak, and
stepping up to the stranger.

"A peaceful Mexican, in search of cows, and some twenty sheep which
straye