it! What had I, who had an honorable profession, to do with becoming a
private soldier?"

"Well, well, it is honorable at least to serve your country," said
Herbert, soothingly.

"If a foreign foe invaded her shores, yes; but what had I to do with
invading another's country?--enlisting for a war of the rights and
wrongs of which I know no more than anybody else does? Growing
impatient because fortune did not at once empty her cornucopia upon my
head! Oh, fool!"

"You blame yourself too severely, Traverse. Your act was natural enough
and justifiable enough, much as it is to be regretted," said Herbert,
cheerfully.

"Come, come, sit on this plank bench beside me--if you are not ashamed
to be seen with a private who is also a donkey--and tell me all about
it. Show me the full measure of the happiness I have so recklessly
squandered away," exclaimed Traverse, desperately.

"I will sit beside you and tell you everything you wish to know, on
condition that you stop berating yourself in a manner that fills me
with indignation," replied Herbert, as they went to a distant part of
the dusty enclosure and took their seats upon a rude bench.

"Oh, Herbert, bear with me; I could dash my wild, impatient head
against a stone wall!"

"That would not be likely to clear or strengthen your brains," said
Herbert, who thereupon commenced and told Traverse the whole history of
the persecution of Clara Day at the Hidden House; the interception of
her letters; the attempt made to force her into a marriage with Craven
Le Noir; her deliverance from her enemies by the address and courage of
Capitola; her flight to Staunton and refuge with Mrs. Rocke; her appeal
to the court, and finally her success and her settlement under the
charge of her matronly friend at Willow Heights.

Traverse had not listened patiently to this account. He heard it with
many bursts of irrepressible indignation and many involuntary starts of
wild passion. Toward the last he sprang up and walked up and down,
chafing like an angry lion in his cage.

"And this man," he exclaimed, as Herbert concluded; "this demon! this
beast! is now our commanding officer--the colonel of our regiment."

"Yes," replied Herbert, "but as such you must not call him names;
military rules are despotic; and this man, who knows your person and
knows you to be the betrothed of Clara Day, whose hand and fortune he
covets for his son, will leave no power with which his command invests
him u