"Whatever the reason, your decision is right. Your country——"
"No, that has nothing to do with it. Less than nothing, indeed. You and I must at least see the truth clearly. I have no sympathy with the Patriot movement. I have never had. That has always been the cause of dispute with my family. I hold it all to be a huge mistake and folly. I am doing this for you—and you only. Now, more than ever, I shall hate the cause; for it has helped to rob me of—you."
I had no answer to that—indeed, what answer could I have made except to pour out some of the feelings that filled my heart, and thus have made things harder for us both.
He sat a moment, as if waiting for me to speak, then sighed wearily and rose. "I had better go now, as you said. I suppose now you will let me see you again."
"Of course. To-morrow. Meanwhile, until I do see you, I wish you to go somewhere and not show yourself."
"All places are alike to me—again," he replied, with dreary indifference.
"I wish you to go and stay with Colonel Katona, and stay in his house until I send to you."
"Colonel Katona! Is he here? Why?"
"His daughter is my friend. It was he who came to the window to-night, seeking news of her."
"Has he a daughter? I didn't know. But why look for her here of all places in the world?"