Evening shades appear, and Lieutenant H. is seated alone with Mrs. E., and after a few palpitations choked down, his sitting posture and position of hands made satisfactory, and his words well studied, his lips part to speak the word of destiny, when Mrs. E. suddenly breaks the awful silence with the domestic utterance, "How I would like to see my little daughter Kate and my husband to-night."

Horrors seize upon him. He makes no reply. "What is the matter, Lieutenant, you look so pale?" inquired Mrs. E. He grows paler, and she goes for the camphor, and hurrying back places the bottle to his olfactories, repeating, "What is the matter, Lieutenant?" Recovering a little, he stammers out, "Nothing, Mrs. E.; nothing, only I felt a little faint, as I do sometimes. Let me pass out into the open air, and I shall soon be myself again." When he stood outside in the free air, and looked up into the heavens, made beautiful by moonlight—the unrivaled silvery moonlight of Mexico—he thanked his stars, most of all, for putting it into the heart of Mrs. E. to speak at the instant she did, and save him from unutterable chagrin! In a few minutes he returned to the room where he had left the lady, and was once more seated in her matronly presence. She was changed, and looked older now, and more unapproachable in his eyes. Surprised at his quick convalesence, he was now prepared to enter upon conversation with Mrs. E. concerning Miss Emma. He felt settled now that his angel was calling his heart toward her. So after a few easy interrogatories, addressed to Mrs. E., he was satisfied that she was neither married nor engaged.

Miss Emma had been out walking with her brother Lew, and had just returned and entered the room. For a few moments all took part in a running conversation, but being about time to retire, Mrs. E. and Lew withdrew from the room, thereby breaking up the congregation, and leaving the Lieutenant and Miss Emma, each to enjoy company. "Two are company, and three are a congregation," says Emerson.

We will say in brief, he proposed and she accepted, but on condition that she might remain with Mrs. E. during the exile.

"Certainly, Miss Emma, you shall remain. I would not have you leave her, and am glad to see this evidence of your friendship and faithful devotion. And now, Miss Emma, as I have never been an advocate of long courtships, but deprecate them after the parties engaged are sufficiently acquainted, I would respectfully suggest, that without ceremonious preparation or invitations, which we could not have here, among strangers, and in a strange land—and without waiting till we can have them—we have the nuptials solemnized to-morrow evening, in this room, at eight o'clock, in the presence of Mrs. E. and your brother. I will remain with you a few days, and then return with my squad, and report to headquarters, and by some honorable means get back to you here at an early day."

At this interesting stage of proceedings, the retired portion of the congregation was called from their slumbers to hear and sanction the matrimonial terms, which, being duly done, the ladies disappeared for the night, and Lieutenant H. went to repose with Lew, who in twenty-four hours more would be his new brother.

They were married, and in ten days duty called the bridegroom to interior Texas, where he was held four months before he could come back to his bride. Three months more, and the war had closed with victory for the "Stars and Stripes." Mrs. E. and her friends were relieved from exile, and all returned home to the blessings of peace and joys of domestic life. Lieutenant H. had proved a heaven-sent blessing to them all.


CHAPTER XV.
LAWLESSNESS AND CRIME.