lared that if her beloved was to die she would die
with him. It was contrary to nature and the laws of God, and it was
characteristic of each that he felt a thrill of gratitude over the
belief that no person suspected his secret. Both would have died
rather than allow it ever to become known.

With this awakening came a transformation of feeling toward the
couple. They sympathized with Lieutenant Russell, but more than all,
they pitied her whose soul was distraught with grief. They had never
before seen her in the agony of distress and neither could stand it.

"Brush," whispered Ruggles, "this must stop."

"_Hold!_" called Brush in a loud voice, striding commandingly forward
with his arm upraised; "I have something to say!"

There was a majesty and an impressiveness of mien like that of the
Hebrew prophet who hushed the tempest. Captain Dawson, without moving
body or limb, turned and glared at the intruder; Ruggles kept his
position; Nellie Dawson, with arms still clasping the neck of her
betrothed, looked over her shoulder at her old friend; Lieutenant
Russell reached up so as to hold the wrists of the girl, while still
retaining his grip upon his rifle and fixed his eyes upon the tall,
gaunt figure that halted between him and Captain Dawson and a little
to one side of him.

"Lieutenant Frederic Russell, do you love Nellie Dawson?" was the
astounding question that fell from the lips of Brush.

"Aye, more than my life," was the prompt response.

"And you have started for Sacramento with the purpose of making her
your wife?"

"That was my resolve with the help of heaven."

"And, Nellie, you agreed to this?"

"Yes, yes; we shall not be parted in life or death."

"Such being your feelings," continued Felix Brush, in the same loud,
clear tones, "I pronounce you man and wife, and whom God hath joined
together let not man put asunder!"

It was a thunderclap. No one moved or spoke for a full minute. Felix
Brush was the only one who seemed to retain command of his senses.
Stepping forward, with a strange smile on his seamed countenance, he
extended his hand to the groom.

"Allow me to congratulate you, lieutenant; and, Nellie, I don't think
you will deny me my fee."

With which he bent over and tenderly kissed her.

"O, Mr. Brush, are we really married?" she asked in a faint, wild
voice.

"As legally as if it were done by the archbishop of Canterbury and
if--"

But he got no further, for her arms were tra