On one of many days, the colonel was conversing with the captain, when the luckless girl wandered near them.
Her uncle addressed her kindly.
“Prithee, who art thou?” she made answer to the uncle she had loved so well.
“What!” said he, assuming a heart-breaking cheerfulness; “dost not know me Elvira?”
“Ah! truly, truly. He is waiting for me. Quick, quick! Thou wouldst not surely keep a bridegroom waiting. Quick—quick—quick.”
Then she perceived the stern puritan, Richard Forth, who was now weeping.
“Verily, ’tis a tear on thy face. Ah, thou, too, hast loved, and art forgotten. I love thee for thy lost love.”
It was on this occasion, after the lady had been induced to return to her apartment, that the colonel took the captain into his confidence.
“Thou must save this man.”
“How?—whom?”