"My son, cry not at what I am convinced you did for the best interests of that dear girl. My faith in you is not shaken. Let God alone judge our motives; mankind can do it not!" "O master! I cannot leave you in this manner! To leave you now with the simple knowledge that I will never return, would be to provoke all manner of thoughts detrimental to my honesty and sincerity of character. You shall know all! I will confide in you my secret!" Then by the side of this grand old man, Cobb sat and told him of his great undertaking, and of his love for his daughter. Half an hour after, the door opened, and Colchis, with a face grave and sad, called to his daughter Marie. Entering the room, she looked from one to the other, as if seeking some explanation of the quiet, sad expression of each. Junius Cobb bowed his head, and the hot tears fell upon his hands. Colchis turned his face away. Quickly going to her lover, Marie knelt at his feet, and gently raised his head until their eyes met. "Do not cry, Junius; do not cry. I know you cannot help yourself. Duty calls you away, and you must go. Such, you have told me, is a soldier's fortune." He clasped her to his heart. "Marie," gravely and sadly spoke her father, "he leaves us to-night. When he returns, no man can tell. But let this comfort you: he has asked for your hand; your heart, I know, is his already. I have given my consent, and gladly. Let him go to his duty cheerfully, and await his return. If you are constant in the love you profess as a girl, you shall marry Junius Cobb, or no other. I swear it, as I hope for salvation hereafter," and he raised his hand toward Heaven in token of his oath. Cobb raised his eyes inquiringly to those of his friend. What did he mean by those words? Was he, too, imposing upon the girl's innocence? A strange light, a gleam of hope, of inspiration, shone in the eyes of Jean Colchis as he once more bade Cobb good-bye, and left the room. Marie and Cobb were alone--alone for the last time: she, hopeful for the future; he, broken-hearted from a knowledge of what that future was to be. "Junius, my own," she murmured, "go, and do your duty. God be with you, as will always my prayers. But go with this knowledge: that I swear by the God my mother taught me to adore, that I will wait till you come to me, will be true to you forever; will marry none on earth but you." How beautiful, heavenly beautiful, was this girl, standing there under the electric light. None can tell the passions that moved that man's heart. Would he give up his great undertaking, and live and marry this Hebe, this angel? Too late! too late! The die was cast; he must meet his destiny! With an aching heart, he kissed her good-bye--kissed her good-bye, and forever. Into the chilly morning air he went, but there was no chill like the chill at his heart. Turning once toward the old house, he cried in his anguish: "God watch over you and take you, for you are lost to me forever!"