dead so
suddenly. But Stephen can pitch his lead, as he calls it, just where he
likes."

"Well, it isn't fair to inquire who killed him," said Lindsay. "One
hunter often turns the game to the other's rifle. And, at all events,
your dogs, Henry, I dare say, did as much as either of you."

"Hylas was just at his heels when he was shot," replied Henry; "and a
better dog there isn't in Amherst, or Albemarle to boot."

"Well, well! Let us to breakfast. Where is our guest? Tyrrel is surely
out before this."

"He has been gone from the Dove Cote more than an hour," said Henry. "He
told me to say, that some sudden news took him off in haste. I would
have waked you, but he forbade it. His man, Curry, who was waiting for
him at the ford, I dare say, brought him some dispatches."

"It was very sudden," said Lindsay, musing; "the great game will be
shortly played."

"My dear father, you have not your usual look of health," said Mildred
again. "I fear something disturbs you."

"A slight cold, only, from exposure to the night air, perhaps. You did
not see Tyrrel this morning, Mildred?"

"I did not wish to see him, father. I was up when he set out, but I was
not in his way."

"Fie, girl, you almost speak crossly! Tyrrel, I must think, is not a man
to win his way with ladies. But he is a loyal subject to his king. I can
tell you, Mildred, loyalty is a virtue of good associations in these
times."

"It is the last virtue, my dear father, that a woman ever writes down in
the list of noble qualities. We generally forget it altogether. History
is so full of the glory of disloyal heroes, that the indiscriminate and
persevering loyalty of brave men has come to be but little noticed.
Brutus was disloyal, and so was Tell; and the English barons, of whom
you boast so much, when you call them sturdy, were disloyal; and
Washington--who knows, my dear father, but that he may be written down
by some future nation, (and she laid an emphasis on this word,) as
another name to give credit to this word, disloyal."

"Thou art a shrewd orator, Mildred," exclaimed her father, as he sought
to change the subject, "and I doubt not, if Heaven had made you man, you
would now be flattering these rebels by persuading them they were all
born for heroes. We may thank the gods that they have given you the
petticoat instead of the soldier's cloak, and placed you at the head of
a breakfast table instead of a regiment."

"I do not think," replied Mildred