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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
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