When she came to she was in her father's arms, the men had gone, and bending over her was Helen Osborne, bathing her face. She opened her eyes and then, shuddering, closed them again. She had looked into the face of a man stricken as unto death.
"Grace, Grace," he moaned, "another such look as that will kill me. You do not understand. I was trying to save life, not take it."
A shiver went through her body, but she did not open her eyes nor answer.
"Grace, hear me. I am not what you think. O God!"
"What did you say, father?" she whispered.
"That I was trying to save Mr. Osborne, not hang him."
Once more her eyes opened, but now they looked with love into her father's face. "Thank God!" she murmured, and her arms went around his neck. The strong man wept as he clasped her to his breast and kissed her again and again.
"Take me home," she whispered weakly. "I feel, oh, so faint!"
On the invitation of Mr. Chittenden the Osbornes accompanied him. The next day he sent them out of the country.
When Grace was strong enough to hear, her father told her all. Mr. Osborne's pronounced Northern principles had made him very obnoxious to those who sympathized with the South. "It was for this reason, Grace," he said, "I forbade your visiting Helen. Even a friendly intercourse between you two would have brought suspicion on me. You cannot understand the terrible feeling towards all Yankees and those who sympathize with them. Mr. Osborne was repeatedly warned to leave the country, but he paid no attention to the warnings. Instead, he became active in giving information to the Federal authorities. Some time ago it became known that he had sent to the Federal commander at Rolla the name of every active Southern sympathizer in the country. My name was on the list as one of the leaders.