nsidered very
like my cousin, Madeline Carlyon. She has spoken to me about you--of
your kindness and generosity--oh, how very fortunate!"

The countenances of all the party were turned towards me, and they
looked at me with an expression of interest and pleasure. The elder
lady got up and, taking my hand, exclaimed--

"We welcome you indeed most cordially, Mr Hurry. Our kinswomen have
spoken most warmly of you, and we consider ourselves most happy in
having met you, though you come in the guise of an enemy."

I had not said all this time who I was, it must be understood. It made
my heart bump away very hard when I found the manner in which Madeline
had spoken of me to her relatives. I made as suitable a reply as I
could to all the complimentary things which were said to me; and then,
as soon as I could, I inquired in a trembling voice where Madeline
Carlyon then was, and how she was. I felt very sure that my secret was
out, and that there was no use in disguising my sentiments.

"She is now residing with her father not very far away from here. They
were, however, to stay with some friends in the neighbourhood, and we
are not quite certain where they may be at this present moment,"
answered the elder lady. "We will, depend on it, take care to let her
know that we have seen you, and she will rejoice to hear of the
courteous way in which you treated us, even when you were unaware who we
were."

I expressed my thanks, and then remarked that even then I did not know
their names.

"Langton is my name," said the lady. "These are my daughters, and that
young lady is my niece, and the other is her sister. They are Carlyons.
Grace is indeed very like her cousin, and some curious mistakes have
occurred in consequence."

I need not repeat more of our conversation. In a few minutes I felt
perfectly at home, and I must own had almost forgotten the errand on
which I had come to the place. Tea was over, and I was about to ask for
paper and a pen to write to Madeline when the sound of a bugle recalled
me to the stern reality of my duties. I started up. I longed to send a
message to Madeline--yet what could I say? I felt that all reserve must
be thrown to the winds. I took Mrs Langton's hand: "Tell her--tell her
that I am true," I exclaimed. "Oh, that this dreadful war were brought
to an end!"

Again the bugle sounded; Tom Rockets put his head in at the door. He
had been carried off to be tended on by the slav