midt
and Margaret went down to the shore, and soon their boat lay quiet far
out on the river.

"They are talking," said the young lover. "I wonder what about."

In fact they had not exchanged even the small current coin of
conventional talk; both were silent until Schmidt laid down his oars,
and the boat silently drifted upward with the tide. It was the woman who
spoke first.

"Ah, what a true friend thou hast been!"

"Yes, I have that way a talent. Why did you bring me out here to flatter
me?"

"I did think it was thou proposed it; but I do wish to talk with thee.
My mother is not well pleased because the other mother is ill pleased. I
do want every one I love to feel that all is well with Rene and me, and
that the love I give is good for him."

"It is well for you and for him, my child, and as for that grim fortress
of a woman, she will live to be jealous of your mother and of Rene. An
east wind of a woman. She will come at last to love you, Pearl."

"Ah, dost thou really think so?"

"Yes."

"And thou art pleased. We thought thou wert grave of late and less--less
gay."

"I am more than pleased, Margaret. I am not sad, but only grieved over
the coming loss out of my life of simple days and those I love, because
soon, very soon, I go away to a life of courts and idle ceremonies, and
perhaps of strife and war."

For a moment or two neither spoke. The fading light seemed somehow to
the girl to fit her sense of the gravity of this announcement of a vast
loss out of life. Her eyes filled as she looked up.

"Oh, why dost thou go? Is not love and reverence and hearts that thank
thee--oh, are not these enough? Why dost thou go?"

"You, dear, who know me will understand when I answer with one
word--duty."

"I am answered," she said, but the tears ran down her cheeks.

"Rene will some day tell you more, indeed, all; and you will know why I
must leave you." Then, saying no more, he took up the oars and pulled
into the shore. Rene drew up the boat.

"Will you go out with me now, Margaret?"

"Not this evening, Rene," she said, and went slowly up to the house.

On one of these later August days, Mr. Hammond, the English minister, at
his house in the country was pleased, being about to return home, to ask
the company of Mr. Wolcott of the Treasury. There were no other guests,
and after dinner the minister, to add zest to his dessert, handed to
Wolcott the now famous intercepted Despatch No. 10, sent back by Lo