“And, oh, David Lindsay! you know how I always loved my uncle! loved him with the holy, tender, caressing love of a child for its father! And I love him so still! And I do pity him infinitely, because he suffers, and has always suffered so much! But, oh, when he wants to marry me, I hate him, oh, I hate him with the hate of a demon! I could kill him at such times! I could! I sometimes dream that I have married him and murdered him, and am flying from justice! or that I am in a condemned cell, or on the scaffold, and I wake in a cold sweat of terror and horror. And it may come to this, David Lindsay! It may come to this unless you save me! I can trust you, my old playmate, I can trust you utterly! And to whom could I fly but to you? Who knows me so well as you? To whom am I so well known? Whom have I on earth but you, David Lindsay? Do not stand behind me! Come around here and let me see you,” she concluded, slightly turning her head. “God forgive me if I do wrong! God forgive me if this great temptation blinds me to the right!” murmured the young man as he left his position behind her seat. And then—not because she was a high-born heiress stooping to him, a poor fisherman—no, indeed, for there was nothing abject in David Lindsay’s nature; but because she was a young girl driven to humiliation as unprecedented as it was undeserved—he came and humbled himself before her, sank on his knees at her feet, took her hand, bowed his forehead upon it and said: “See me here at your bidding. I am your own, your slave, to do your will in everything. Tell me what to do!” “Oh, David Lindsay, rise and sit beside me,” she murmured, with the tears springing to her eyes. He obeyed her and waited for her further words. “Take me away from here at once, David Lindsay! Take me to Washington, where we can be married. Then to my own house of Gryphynshold! There I shall be safe! You know where that is?” “In Virginia—yes.” “Take me there, and from that place communicate with my guardian, who must then come to a settlement and yield up all authority over me, or my estate; for such were the terms of my father’s will.” “The steamboat from Norfolk to Washington will stop at La Compte’s Landing this afternoon. If we cross about now we will be sure to meet it,” said the young man. “Then go and get ready for your journey at once, David Lindsay. I will sit here and wait for you. But what will Granny Lindsay say to your sudden departure? And, oh, what will she do, here by herself? I never thought of that before,” said the girl, compunctiously. “Do not distress yourself, lady. All things work together for your will to-day; for this morning my grandmother left home for the first time in many years, and for an absence of some days,” replied the young man. “Granny Lindsay from home!” exclaimed Gloria, in surprise, not unmixed with a feeling of relief.