Miss Newville and Robert sat down to a game of checkers. He debated with himself whether or not he would let her win the first game. Would it be gentlemanly to defeat her? Ought he not to allow her to win? But almost before he was aware of what had happened she was victor, and he was making apology for playing so badly. Again the men were set, and again, although he did his best to win, his men were swept from the board. "I see I'm no match for you," he said. "I am not so sure about that. I saw your mistake. You would soon learn to correct it," she said with a smile. Although yet early in the evening, Miss Newville said she must be going home, as her parents might be concerned for her. "I trust the soldiers will not molest you," said Mrs. Brandon, bidding Miss Newville farewell. "I am sure I shall be safe with Mr. Walden," she replied. There was a meaning in her eyes which he alone understood, the silent reference to their first meeting. The moon was at its full, its silver light gleaming upon the untrodden snow. There was no need for them to hasten their steps when the night was so lovely. "Oh, look, Mr. Walden! see Christ Church!" Miss Newville exclaimed. "Tower, belfry, turret, and steeple are glazed with frozen sea-mist and driven snow." The church loomed before them in the refulgent light, a mass of shining silver. Above all was the tapering spire and golden vane. "It is the poetry of nature. Such beauty thrills me. I feel, but cannot express, my pleasure," she said. "It is indeed very beautiful," he replied. "The snow, the silver, gold, light and shade, the steeple tapering to a point, make it a wonderful picture. Would that you could see on such a night as this the view from my own home,--upland and valley, meadow and forest, walls and fences, leafless oaks, elms, and maples in fields and pastures, pure white and shining like polished silver in the moonlight, and all the twigs and branches glittering with diamonds. On such nights, when the crust is hard and firm, we boys and girls pile ourselves on a sled and go like the wind from the top of the hill in the pasture down to the meadow, across the intervale, over the river bank, and out upon the gleaming ice. We wake the echoes with our laughter and have a jolly time." "Oh, how I should enjoy it," she said. Suddenly they heard other voices, and as they turned the corner of the street came upon a group of men and boys armed with cudgels. "We'll give it to the lobsters," they heard one say. "I fear there may be trouble," Robert remarked, recalling the conversation at the supper-table. Passing the home of Doctor Warren, they saw a light burning in his office, and by the shadow on the window curtain knew he was seated at his writing-desk. Turning from Hanover towards Queen Street, they found several soldiers in earnest conversation blocking the way. "I'd like to split the heads of the blackguards," said one, flourishing a cutlass.