; but faith, Harry, I
would love to win in something, if not in hearts, in a throw of the
dice. For sure I am a man grown, and have never had my own will in
aught that lies near my heart." With that he gave a great sigh, and
I striving to cheer him, and indeed loving the lad, replied that he
was but young, and there was still time ahead, and the will of one's
heart required often but a short corner of turning. But he was angry
again at me for that, and cried out I knew not for all I was loved in
return, the heart of a certain maid as well as he who was despised,
and spurred his horse and rode on ahead, and when we had come to the
division of the road, saluted me shortly, and was gone, and the sound
of his galloping died away in the distance, and I rode home alone
meditating.

And when I reached Drake Hill a white curtain fluttered athwart a
window, and I caught a gleam of a white arm pulling it to place, and
knew that Mistress Mary had been watching for me--I can not say
with what rapture and triumph and misgivings.

It was well toward morning, and indeed a faint pallor of dawn was in
the east, and now and then a bird was waking. Not a slave on the
plantation was astir, and the sounds of slumber were coming from the
quarters. So I myself put my borrowed horse in stable, and then was
seeking my own room, when, passing through the hall, a white figure
started forth from a shadow and caught me by the arm, and it was
Catherine Cavendish. She urged me forth to the porch, I being
bewildered and knowing not how, nor indeed if it were wise, to
resist her. But when we stood together there, in that hush of
slumber only broken now and then by the waking love of a bird, and
it seemed verily as if we two were alone in the whole world, a sense
of the situation flashed upon me. I turned on my heel to reenter the
house. "Madam," I said, "this will never do. If you remain here with
me, your reputation--"

"What think you I care for my reputation?" she whispered. "What
think you? Harry Wingfield, you cannot do this monstrous thing. You
cannot be so lost to all honour as to let my sister--You cannot,
and you a convict--"

Then, indeed, for the first time in my life and the last I answered
a woman as if she were a man, and on an equal footing of antagonism
with me. "Madam," I replied, "I will maintain my honour against your
own." But she seemed to make no account of what I said. Indeed I
have often wondered whether a woman, when she