t come.

But then with that terrible self-command she sometimes displayed, she
mastered her emotion and turned to look into her companion's face.

"Clif," she said, "you know what I mean. You must let me marry this
officer."

Clif had known, and so he did not move when he heard those awful words.
He sat perfectly motionless, almost frozen; he felt the girl's hand turn
cold in his.

The carriage rolled on, and for at least one long, long minute there was
not a sound. The girl was listening, trembling again; and Clif, half
dazed was thinking to himself, thinking again and again of that death
knell, "You must let me marry this officer."

And it was true. Clif knew it. It was his duty; and the feeling lingered
in his mind that if he had half the heroism of that Spaniard he would
have said so long ago.

At last he spoke. His mouth was dry and his voice husky, but he forced
the words out.

And they were the right ones.

"Yes," said he, "you must marry him. And we must never meet again."

And then once more came the terrible silence. Bessie Stuart heard him
choke down a sob; and her heart was ready to break.

For this cadet was the dearest friend she had. She had been through
terrible dangers with him, coming to love him more every day, as she saw
the brave man's daring. And no one could ever know now how she felt
toward him.

But there was her duty; and though she was nearly ready to faint, she
sat perfectly motionless by his side.

And so for two or three minutes they rode on in silence; then suddenly
they heard the driver of the carriage stopping his horses.

"We are there," said Clif, in a husky voice.

He turned to look at the girl once more; he found that she was gazing at
him, and their eyes met.

There was anguish in both of their faces; Miss Stuart could scarcely see
for her tears.

But Clif took her hands in his. All the emotion of his lifetime seemed
crowded into that moment. He bent toward her and their lips met in one
trembling kiss.

And then with a set look on his face the cadet rose from his seat and
opened the door of the carriage, which had stopped.

CHAPTER XIX.

A FAREWELL.

Clif found Lieutenant Hernandez waiting for them to come out. Both he
and the driver had descended from the carriage.

It was quite dark where they were, apparently surrounded by a lonely
woods. But by such light as there was Clif looked at the officer
anxiously.

Now since he had heard that story