“God bless you for those kind words,” said Albert. “But, Ellen, before you go, one more request. That miniature that hangs around your neck—is it too much to ask for it?”
She hesitated: then, as steps were heard in the road, suddenly gave it to him. He drew a heavy signet-ring from his finger, and said, tendering it in exchange,
“Take this, and let us be true to each other—so help us God!”
And with this parting adjuration, he sprang over the fence to conceal himself behind the brushwood, while Ellen, hastening up the avenue, was soon lost to sight in the obscurity of the hour.
The wind sighed mournfully through the pine woods as this betrothal was consummated, and the dark, starless sky overhead looked down with its weird and melancholy face.
——
CHAPTER II.
Heard ye the din of battle bray,
Lance to lance, and horse to horse.
Gray.