s
belly, and Festus' heels elevated over the saddle to keep them out of the
stream, which threatened to wash rider and horse into the deep mill-head
just below. It was plainly he who had struck her lattice, for in a
moment he looked up, and their eyes met. Festus laughed loudly, and
slapped her window again; and just at that moment the dragoons began
prancing down the slope in review order. She could not but wait a minute
or two to see them pass. While doing so she was suddenly led to draw
back, drop the corner of the curtain, and blush privately in her room.
She had not only been seen by Festus Derriman, but by John Loveday, who,
riding along with his trumpet slung up behind him, had looked over his
shoulder at the phenomenon of Derriman beneath Anne's bedroom window and
seemed quite astounded at the sight.

She was quite vexed at the conjunction of incidents, and went no more to
the window till the dragoons had ridden far away and she had heard
Festus's horse laboriously wade on to dry land. When she looked out
there was nobody left but Miller Loveday, who usually stood in the garden
at this time of the morning to say a word or two to the soldiers, of whom
he already knew so many, and was in a fair way of knowing many more, from
the liberality with which he handed round mugs of cheering liquor
whenever parties of them walked that way.

In the afternoon of this day Anne walked to a christening party at a
neighbour's in the adjoining parish of Springham, intending to walk home
again before it got dark; but there was a slight fall of rain towards
evening, and she was pressed by the people of the house to stay over the
night. With some hesitation she accepted their hospitality; but at ten
o'clock, when they were thinking of going to bed, they were startled by a
smart rap at the door, and on it being unbolted a man's form was seen in
the shadows outside.

'Is Miss Garland here?' the visitor inquired, at which Anne suspended her
breath.

'Yes,' said Anne's entertainer, warily.

'Her mother is very anxious to know what's become of her. She promised
to come home.' To her great relief Anne recognized the voice as John
Loveday's, and not Festus Derriman's.

'Yes, I did, Mr. Loveday,' said she, coming forward; 'but it rained, and
I thought my mother would guess where I was.'

Loveday said with diffidence that it had not rained anything to speak of
at the camp, or at the mill, so that her mother was rather alarmed