the twittering of birds and the distant rumble of a cart in its early
rounds. The chill air of the morning made her shiver as she scanned the
entry for the newspaper. Dismayed, she turned to the clock in the hall.
Its hands were at quarter past five.

She sat long behind the curtains in her father's little library, the
thoughts whirling in her brain as she watched the growing life of
another day. What would it bring forth? Once she stole softly back to
the entry, self-indulgent and ashamed, to rehearse again the bitter and
the sweet of that scene of the Sunday before. She summoned up the image
of the young man who had stood on these steps in front of the frightened
servants. She seemed to feel again the calm power and earnestness of his
face, to hear again the clear-cut tones of his voice as he advised
her. Then she drew back, frightened, into the sombre library,
conscience-stricken that she should have yielded to this temptation
then, when Clarence--She dared not follow the thought, but she saw the
light skiff at the mercy of the angry river and the dark night.

This had haunted her. If he were spared, she prayed for strength to
consecrate herself to him A book lay on the table, and Virginia took
refuge in it. And her eyes glancing over the pages, rested on this
verse:--

"Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums,
That beat to battle where he stands;
Thy face across his fancy comes,
And gives the battle to his hands."

The paper brought no news, nor mentioned the ruse to which Captain Lyon
had resorted to elude the writ by transporting his prisoner to Illinois.
Newspapers were not as alert then as now. Colonel Carvel was off early
to the Arsenal in search of tidings. He would not hear of Virginia's
going with him. Captain Lige, with a surer instinct, went to the river.
What a morning of suspense! Twice Virginia was summoned to her aunt, and
twice she made excuse. It was the Captain who returned first, and she
met him at the door.

"Oh, what have you heard?" she cried.

"He is alive," said the Captain, tremulously, "alive and well, and
escaped South."

She took a step toward him, and swayed. The Captain caught her. For a
brief instant he held her in his arms and then he led her to the great
armchair that was the Colonel's.

"Lige," she said, "--are you sure that this is not--a kindness?"

"No, Jinny," he answered quickly, "but things were mighty close. I
was afraid last night. T