tish. His property was confiscated to the
state. He proceeded from Halifax to London, where he gave generous
hospitality to his fellow exiles in that city.]

"Good for the ropemakers," said Berinthia, clapping her hands.

Robert saw a lighting up of Miss Newville's eyes, but no word fell
from her lips.

"I fear," said Mr. Brandon, "there will be an outbreak between the
soldiers and the people. Since the funeral of Snider, the soldiers
have been growing more insolent. The long stay of the troops with
nothing to do except the daily drill and parade, and drinking toddy,
has demoralized them. The under-officers are but little better than
the men, spending most of their time in the taverns playing cards.
Discipline is lax. I shall not be surprised at whatever may happen."

Miss Newville and Robert sat down to a game of checkers. He debated
with himself whether or not he would let her win the first game. Would
it be gentlemanly to defeat her? Ought he not to allow her to win? But
almost before he was aware of what had happened she was victor, and he
was making apology for playing so badly. Again the men were set, and
again, although he did his best to win, his men were swept from the
board.

"I see I'm no match for you," he said.

"I am not so sure about that. I saw your mistake. You would soon learn
to correct it," she said with a smile.

Although yet early in the evening, Miss Newville said she must be
going home, as her parents might be concerned for her.

"I trust the soldiers will not molest you," said Mrs. Brandon, bidding
Miss Newville farewell.

"I am sure I shall be safe with Mr. Walden," she replied. There was a
meaning in her eyes which he alone understood, the silent reference to
their first meeting.

The moon was at its full, its silver light gleaming upon the untrodden
snow. There was no need for them to hasten their steps when the night
was so lovely.

"Oh, look, Mr. Walden! see Christ Church!" Miss Newville exclaimed.
"Tower, belfry, turret, and steeple are glazed with frozen sea-mist
and driven snow."

The church loomed before them in the refulgent light, a mass of
shining silver. Above all was the tapering spire and golden vane.

"It is the poetry of nature. Such beauty thrills me. I feel, but
cannot express, my pleasure," she said.

"It is indeed very beautiful," he replied. "The snow, the silver,
gold, light and shade, the steeple tapering to a point, make it a
wonderful picture. Would t