“And when will you marry me?”
“Some day, dear Denzil,” she replied.
She gently released herself and gazed at me timidly.
“Oh, it must be wrong to feel so happy,” she added with a little sob in her voice, “while he is lying cold and dead. How generous and noble he was! And think of it, Denzil, he intended to give me up! I am glad I was true to him.”
“I wish I had been truer,” I said bitterly. “But it is too late for regrets. A better man than Griffith Hawks never lived. He was worthy of you, Flora. Can I say more?”
“I will never forget him,” she answered softly. “Oh, this cruel, cruel war! And they say the fort is in danger, Denzil. That is what I wanted to ask you.”
“Don’t believe it,” said I. “There will be more fighting—perhaps a protracted siege—but our brave men will prove more than a match for the cowardly redskins. Trust to me, dearest. I will save you from, all harm and peril.”
At that moment Menzies was heard returning. I caught the girl in my arms, kissed her twice, and hurried from the house. All was quiet as I crossed the yard, and I observed that fine flakes of snow were commencing to drop. Flora was mine! I could think of nothing else when I entered my quarters, but, for all that I was so worn out that I fell asleep the moment I threw myself on the bed.