of a poultice, which the skill of Miss Randolph had prepared.  He informed her that Arthur was sleeping quietly, and that she might dismiss all fears as to his safety; and perhaps, if he had watched her closely, the earnest expression of something more than pleasure with which she received this assurance, might have given him cause for rumination.  Beverly descended soon afterward, and confirmed the favorable report from the sick chamber, and Oriana retired into the house to assist in preparing the morning meal.

“Let us take a stroll by the riverside,” said Beverly; “the air breathes freshly after my night’s vigil.”

“The storm has left none but traces of beauty behind,” observed Harold, as they crossed the lawn.  The loveliness of the early morning was indeed a pleasant sequel to the rude tempest of the preceding night.  The dewdrops glistened upon grass-blade and foliage, and the bosom of the stream flashed merrily in the sunbeams.

“It is,” answered Beverly, “as if Nature were rejoicing that the war of the elements is over, and a peace proclaimed.  Would that the black cloud upon our political horizon had as happily passed away.”

After a pause, he continued:  “Harold, you need not fear to remain with us a while longer.  I am sure that Rawbon’s confederates are heartily ashamed of their participation in last night’s outrage, and will on no account be seduced to a similar adventure.  Rawbon himself will not be likely to show himself in this vicinity for some time to come, unless as the inmate of a jail, for I have ordered a warrant to be issued against him.  The whole affair has resulted evidently from some unaccountable antipathy which the fellow entertains against us.”

“I agree with you,” replied Harold, “but still I think this is an unpropitious time for the prolongation of my visit.  There are events, I fear, breeding for the immediate future, in which I must take a part.  I shall only remain with you a few days, that I may be assured of Arthur’s safety.”

“I will not disguise from you my impression that Virginia will withdraw from the Union.  In that case, we will be nominal enemies.  God grant that our paths may not cross each other.”

“Amen!” replied Harold, with much feeling.  “But I do not understand why we should be enemies.  You surely will not lend your voice to this rebellion?”

“When the question of secession is before the people of my State, I shall cast my vote as my judgment and conscience shall dictate.  Meanwhile I shall examine the issue, and, I trust, dispassionately.  But whatever may become of my individual opinion, where Virginia goes I go, whatever be the event.”

“Would you uphold a wrong in the face of your own conscience?”

“Oh, as to that, I do not hold it a question between right and wrong, but simply of advisability.  The right of secession I entertain no doubt about.”

“No doubt as to the right of dismembering and destroying a government which has fostered your infancy, developed your strength, and made you one among the parts of a nation that has no peer in a world’s history?  Is it possible that intellect and honesty can harbor such a doctrine!”