And how felt she, that wounded, trusting one, who thus in a short day had seen the hopes and dreams of happiness, which fancy had woven in her young heart, all rudely swept away! 'Twere wrong to lift the veil from that poor stricken heart, now torn with grief too deep for words—too deep, alas! for tears. With her cheek resting on her white hand, she gazed tearlessly, but vacantly, towards the forest where he had so lately vanished as a dream. To those who spoke to her, she answered sadly in monosyllables, and then turned her head away, as if it were still sweet to cherish thus the agony which consumed her. But the bitterest drop in all this cup of woe, was the self-reproach which mingled with her recollection of that sad scene. When he had frankly given back her troth, she, alas! had not stayed his hand, nor by a word had told him how truly, even in his guilt, her heart was his. And now, she thought, when thus driven harshly into the cold world, his only friends among the enemies to truth, his enemies its friends, how one little word of love, or even of pity, might have redeemed him from error, or at least have cheered him in his dark career. But bear up bravely, sweet one; for heavier, darker sorrows yet must cast their shadows on thy young heart, ere yet its warm pulsations cease to beat, and it be laid at rest. FOOTNOTES: [19] Rest was the prescribed limit to the size of the venture. [20] To pull down the side was a technical term with our ancestors for cheating. CHAPTER XII. “Wounded in both my honour and my love; They have pierced me in two tender parts. Yet, could I take my just revenge, It would in some degree assuage my smart.” _Vanbrugh._ It was at an early hour on the following morning that the queer old chariot of Colonel Temple—one of the few, by the way, which wealth had as yet introduced into the colony—was drawn up before the door. The two horses of the gentlemen were standing ready saddled and bridled, in the care of the hostler. In a few moments, the ladies, all dressed for the journey, and the gentlemen, with their heavy spurs, long, clanging swords, and each with a pair of horseman's pistols, issued from the house into the yard. The old lady, declaring that they were too late, and that, if her advice had been taken, they would have been half way to Jamestown, was the first to get into the carriage, armed with a huge basket of bread, beef's tongue, cold ham and jerked venison, which was to supply the place of dinner on the road. Virginia, pale and sad, but almost happy at any change from scenes where every object brought up some recollection of the banished Hansford, followed her mother; and the large trunk having been strapped securely behind the carriage, and the band-box, containing the old lady's tire for the ball and other light articles of dress, having been secured, the little party were soon in motion.