CHAPTER XLV

READING BETWEEN THE LINES

"There's a dainty window over the way,

Draped with laces and decked with flowers,
Where a golden bird in a fairy cage

Sings and swings through the daylight hours;
But his voice has ever a mournful note,

As if he sighed for an absent mate,
Or dreamed of the forest green and free
Beyond the bars of his golden grate.

"There's a sweet, pale face, with heaven-blue eyes,
That looks from the window over the way,
With a wishful gaze at the far-off skies,
And the golden glow of the fading day;
And I know that many an aching heart
Beats like the bird with prisoned wings;
And I hear the sound of the grieving note
In many a song that the poet sings."

HAT'S to do about sport, eh?" questioned Captain Monckton, who had caught the drift of a remark made by Roswell to Kingsland.

"We were speaking about making up a hunting party and treating the ship's crew to a surfeit of wild game-deer, bear, wild turkey, and the like,that is with your permission, Captain," replied Guy.

"Which won't be lacking, lad," rejoined the Captain. "I've some crack shots and keen sportsmen among my marines, whose practice has been upon the enemies of Old England, and on the high seas-and so, my lad, we'll e'en not tarry longer than the morrow."

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"And we can offer you some prime oysters, clams, fish and seafowl," chimed in Captain Gardiner. Why, man, ducks are as abundant in these waters as rooks are in the parks at home. Truth to tell, we have a surfeit, but I confess there's not a proper supply of stock here to compensate, for the game suits me not so well as the roast beef at home."

"There should be a large importation of kine and oxen to suit the demand," returned Mockton. "You have swine in plenty, I dare say."

"Scarcely; but bear's flesh fills the gap in a great measure. One can scarcely detect the difference in flavour between a slice from a bear's hind quarter and a rasher of ham."

"Possible? And are there fruits plentiful?"

"Wild fruit in abundance-grapes, apples, blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, and the like, of course an inferior flavour and size to the cultivated article in England," answered Gardiner, "but I have imported pears and peaches, currants and apples, and have thriving young orchards of the choicest- Ah, here comes Lawrence, and there's

the dinner bell."

Colonel Lawrence joined the group gathered about the hickory wood fire, and received the introductions courteously, but rather coldly, so Tom Roswell fancied.

The dinner bell pealed the second time, and the party adjourned to the dining-room, a snug apartment lighted with wax candles, the table aglitter with silver and cut glass, where the butler waited, solemn and dignified as a church magnate, as became a servitor in Captain Gardiner's employ.

Damaris Gordon joined the family at dinner, taking her accustomed seat upon the right of the Colonel, and feeling a painful sense of restraint.

It was certainly difficult to frame a remark to the silent man sitting by her side, but Guy, upon her right, proved himself capable of any amount of small talk, exerting his conversational powers to the utmost to elicit replies from the moody Colonel.

Captain Monckton, not a particularly observant man, saw nothing of the by-play, but Tom Roswell, quick of perception, stole covert glances across the board at the drooping face of the young girl, noticing her silent, preoccupied manner, but attributing it to a grief natural from her recent loss.

The two captains engaged in a lively conversation, reminiscences of the past, while Mrs. Gardiner accented now and then with a pleasant remark.

It was a positive relief to Damaris when dinner was over and the company returned to the sitting

room.

Guy, wondering, in his easy fashion, at the Colonel's taciturnity, attempted to draw him out, but for once the gay Lieutenant was baffled, Lawrence replying courteously, but briefly, to his sallies, and at an early hour excusing himself and going away to his own room.

He did not remain in his chamber, however, but wrapping his cloak about his tall figure he went out into the starlight, taking his way in the direction of the newly made grave beneath the spreading pine near the spot where Wyancombone had entered the grounds.

A single parting glance from the splendid eyes of her hero, an involuntary weakness upon his part, had caused Damaris' heart to flutter like a wounded dove, and Tom Roswell caught that swift gleam and the tell-tale blush mantling the girl's pale cheek with sudden flame, a conscious droop of the white eyelids over the violet eyes. The glance and answer

ing glow were revelations to the mate of the Highflyer.

A key to the Colonel's moodiness-clear case of love on his part, I'll dare swear. How is it with her, I wonder?" mused Tom; " and does Kingsland suspect? I trow not, or he would be on tenter-hooks. Is there, or has there been an understanding between this uplifted Colonel and our demure little puss? I fancy not."

For an instant Tom studied the girl's face as the bright colour faded as swiftly as it had flamed, leaving her cheeks pallid, her lips white.

"I'll wager a pound against a farthing that the Lieutenant is but an indifferent wooer at best, or he would surely note the signs. I don't think his heart was ever touched. Capital fellow with his messmates, and all that, but that he will ever be in love with anything or anybody except Guy Kingsland, I have my doubts. Such natures are incapable of a grand passion, and yet that high-born lassie, with her shining eyes and sweet, proud lips, is a fitting mate for royalty."

"Dreaming, eh, Tom?"

It was Guy's gay tone in his ear, and Roswell started and stared guiltily, as if his thoughts had been an open book for the perusal of the questioner.

"I was thinking of your friend, the Colonel; there is something about him that interests, yet puzzles me. You knew him before you came to the colonies-I gathered as much through your speech."

"Known him for ages. Capital fellow is Lawrence. A bit proud-one of the uplifted ones to whom honour is dearer than life-squeamish, in fact, but a good sort after all. You'll like him after you have time to learn his good points."

"Avast, there! I don't dislike him in the least,

on the contrary, I have taken a prodigious fancy to him. He's a born soldier, eh? I gather that from the cut of his jib and the way he carries sail generally."

"A soldier-yes. Brave as a lion, an incarnate whirlwind in a fight. I suppose he has led more forlorn hopes and cut down more foemen than any man of his years in Old Noll's army. You should see him at his best. To-night-in fact, ever since his exploit in company with Bull Smith, when they rescued the body of the Major from the Mohawks-he has been down in the mouth, as nearly sulky as it is in the nature of a Lawrence to get. I imagine that episode gave even his iron nerves a wrench that it will take some time to cure.'

"He is fine-looking, yet there is something in his grave, handsome face and stern lips that gives one the idea of some hidden trouble. Is he married, widowed, or a bachelor?"

"A confirmed bachelor, don't think he ever felt a twinge of the volcanic fire men call love in all his existence. I should imagine that the fair sex is a riddle which he does not care to solve."

"And yet such as he are men most capable of deep love and great sacrifice for one who is fortunate enough to gain their affection," responded Roswell, thoughtfully.

He was adroitly probing the heart of his friend, but started uneasily. Damaris had quietly taken a seat near at hand, quite unobserved by the speakers, and sat, white and still, gazing in Roswell's face with wide, anguished eyes. He felt assured she must have heard their remarks, which certainly he had not intended for her ears.

Mayhap some damsel has whistled him down the wind," broke in Captain Monckton, in his loud, hearty voice. He, too, had approached and was