from
cannon-balls, to examine the ruins of their city.

"We've done a good deal of damage in six weeks to a fortress that it
took thirty years to build," said Archdale to Elizabeth. "There are only
three whole houses left in the city." As he spoke they were passing by
gaping walls and shattered gun-carriages. They walked through entire
streets where the buildings, all more or less demolished, showed at
every point the cruelties of war. At one place they heard voices coming
from a roofless dwelling, which proved that its inmates still called it
home, and clung to the poor shelter that it gave.

"Take care!" cried Stephen, drawing her back suddenly. And as he spoke,
a stone from the high wall lost the balance it had precariously kept,
and fell almost at her feet. "We will walk in the middle of the street,"
he said, and they went on again, she leaning lightly on the arm he
offered her through the ways rough and often obstructed. It all seemed
like nothing else that had ever been with them, or ever would be with
them again. The city, wrecked by the storm that had raged against it,
lay in the stillness of hopelessness, and the moon that rose before the
twilight had begun to fade made the calmness appear deeper in sight of
the destruction that had brought death. It seemed to Elizabeth like
Archdale's own life.

"Do you know where Mr. Royal is?" he asked.

"I am not anxious about him," she answered, with a smile. "He is well
provided for in every way at General Pepperell's banquet." She stopped
suddenly, and turned to Stephen. "That is where you ought to be, too,"
she said; "and you are here on account of my thoughtless speech."

"Not so at all," he answered, with decision. "To be walking here with
you is what I like best."

She understood that her knowledge of his suffering and her sympathy made
this very natural. That evening for the first time they spoke of Katie.
He said that it seemed strange to him that the thought of her had so
little power over him.

"It will all come back with the old life," she answered; "that seems
broken now, but we shall take it up again."

"Where we left it?" he asked.

"I think so," she answered him.

He said nothing, for he did not himself understand what it was that
moved him so, and why he should be so eager to deny what must be true.
Only one thing was clear to him: that nothing must break the peace of
this evening. This was real in the midst of so much that seemed unreal,
and b