“Whe-ew! here’s a go!” Cloudesley was about to exclaim, but remembering himself he amended his phraseology, and said, “A very embarrassing situation, yours, sir.”

“I cannot regret it!”

“Certainly not!  There are laws of God and humanity above all military law, and such you obeyed, sir!  I thank you on the part of my young countrywoman,” said Cloudesley, who imagined that he could talk about as well as he could fight.

“If the occasion could recur, I would do it again!  Yes, a thousand times!” the young man’s eyes added to Edith—­only to her.

“But oh! perdition! while I am talking here that serpent! that copperhead! that cobra capella! is coming round again!  How astonishingly tenacious of life all foul, venomous creatures are!” exclaimed Cloudesley, as he happened to espy Throg moving slightly where he lay, and rushed out to dispatch him.

The other two young people were left alone in the hall.

“I am afraid you have placed yourself in a very, very dangerous situation, by what you did to save me.”

“But do you know—­oh, do you know how happy it has made me?  Can you divine how my heart—­yes, my soul—­burns with the joy it has given me?  When I saw you standing there before your enemies so beautiful! so calm! so constant—­I felt that I could die for you—­that I would die for you.  And when I sprang between you and your pursuers, I had resolved to die for you.  But first to set your soul free.  Edith, you should not have fallen into the hands of the soldiers!  Yes!  I had determined to die for and with you!  You are safe.  And whatever befalls me, Edith, will you remember that?”

“You are faint!  You are wounded!  Indeed you are wounded!  Oh, where!  Oh! did any of our people strike you?”

“No—­it was one of our men, Edith!  I do not know your other name, sweet lady!”

“Never mind my name—­it is Edith—­that will do; but your wound—­your wound—­oh! you are very pale—­here! lie down upon this settee.  Oh, it is too hard!—­come into my room, it opens here upon the hall—­there is a comfortable lounge there—­come in and lie down—­let me get you something?”

“Thanks—­thanks, dearest lady, but I must get upon my horse and go!”

“Go?”

“Yes, Edith—­don’t you understand, that after what I have done—­after what I have had the joy of doing—­the only honorable course left open to me, is to go and give myself up to answer the charges that may be brought against me?”

“Oh, heaven!  I know!  I know what you have incurred by defending me!  I know the awful penalty laid upon a military officer who lifts his hand against his superior.  Don’t go! oh, don’t go!”

“And do you really take so much interest in my fate, sweetest lady?” said the youth, gazing at her with the deepest and most delightful emotions.

“‘Take an interest’ in my generous protector!  How should I help it?  Oh! don’t go!  Don’t think of going.  You will not—­will you?  Say that you will not!”