d a man was nothing
at such a time. Elizabeth thought that at the time of sieges and battles
a man might be considered of some little consequence. But she never
argued with Mrs. Eveleigh, and she had quitted her thankful for the good
lady's affection, and glad that Mrs. Eveleigh was to be left behind on
such an expedition.

"You'll never come back," Mrs. Eveleigh sobbed. "The French ships of war
will be sure to gobble up you and your father, too. I know just how it
will be. You are a crazy girl, and I don't know what is the matter with
you," she had added irrelevantly; "and as to your father, you must have
bewitched him; he used to have plenty of common sense."

The matter with Mr. Royal was, that he knew his daughter well enough to
be sure that if Archdale was killed during the siege she would feel
always that her silence might have given the opportunity for his death.
And he knew that to bring upon Elizabeth the miseries of an uneasy
conscience would be to kill her by slow torture. Besides, he himself
believed in the danger, his own conscience was aroused, and that was not
easily put to sleep. But if he had heard the verdict of Mrs. Eveleigh,
who knew nothing of the matter, he would not have blamed her so much.

He had hired this little schooner in which they now were at a ruinous
rate, and had not been able to do even that until he had pledged himself
to pay all damages in case of loss. Governor Shirley had seized the
opportunity to send dispatches several days earlier than he had
intended. Mr. Royal went with a picked crew, men both honest and
skilful. He knew the dangers of French vessels as well as Mrs. Eveleigh
did, but his daughter's persistent assertion: "We shall be murderers,"
had overborne every objection.

Elizabeth sitting on deck that morning, was thinking of these things,
and tracing in this danger which she was trying to avert, one of the
consequences of her frolic on the river that summer evening. Then she
remembered that but for that she would perhaps have been Edmonson's
wife, and she said to herself that the Lord had been very merciful to
her, and that she would try not to shrink from her duty.

"How fast we are going," said Nancy again. It was true that the little
vessel before a fair wind was flying over the water at a rate that, if
kept up, and in the same direction, would soon bring its passengers to
their destination. Elizabeth was glad of speed, already it might be too
late. And besides,