, if the French
ones came instead?" His words were light, but the other perceived his
deep anxiety.

"What would you do then?" he asked.

"Take Louisburg,--or die."

Archdale turned towards him impulsively. "Yes, you will," he cried, "you
will lead us into Louisburg." He waited a moment. "Before the general
attack--," he began, and hesitated.

"Oh, I'll send the rest of the hospital off to Canso," interposed
Pepperell, "all I can of it; our house there is full now. And the
nurses,--you may be sure that they shall go. That's what you mean?"

"Yes, you think of everything."

"Mr. Royal has been impressing the same necessity upon me." And the
General laughed.

"Where is he?" asked Stephen quickly.

"He has been with his daughter all the afternoon, I believe, but a while
ago he went up to the Batteries with Col. Vaughan.

"But Elizabeth Royal is not a woman to be forgotten," Pepperell went on,
"even if her father were not my old friend, and at my elbow."

"No," said the young man. Then he made a remark about military affairs,
and the subject of the attack was renewed.

Suddenly came the report of a pistol different from the roar of the
cannon, and so unexpected and near that it startled the listeners as if
its sharpness had broken in upon the still night.

"Where was that?" cried the General.

Not only sound, but intuition guided Archdale. For the element that was
a sharper discord than war was to be found in the place to which his
feet were rushing. If not himself for victim, who then? In another
moment he threw back the door of the hospital tent in which Elizabeth
was, and entered.

He was none too soon. Elizabeth, swaying beside the couch of the dying
soldier, fell as Archdale reached her. He lifted her, and carried her to
her own tent. She was too faint to resist, or appeal. Nancy, whom the
shot had summoned, followed, holding back her grief and terror because
help and silence were what her mistress needed. Archdale had stayed but
a moment in the tent. But he had seen everything, Harwin unhurt rushing
toward his assailant, the surgeon wrenching the pistol from the disabled
hand that had missed its aim, and Edmonson's face wild with horror at
the lodgment that his ball had found. He had seen all, and he
comprehended all.

CHAPTER XXXI.

EYES UNSEALED.

Edmonson sat with a terrible fierceness in his face.

Harwin had never seen him before, but he had heard of him, and, through
Katie, of his form