"I have nothing to forgive," said Harry. "You could not but believe I was a traitor, as you said, in refusing to serve the King." "Nay, nay, but I ought to have believed you were acting conscientiously, although I could not see things as you saw them. I was hard, uncharitable, cruel, Harry." "Nay, nay, Maud; cruel, when at Oxford you saved my life?" "I did not know it was to save you," murmured Maud. Harry looked disappointed, and dropped the hand he was holding. "Maud, when I saw you there, riding through the soldiers, I thought it was for me you came, although you had given your heart and hand to another." Maud stared. "Given heart and hand to another!" she repeated. "Hush! hush!" said Harry, "my secret shall die with me. I would not even ask about you when I came here, but suffer me to call you Maud the little while I stay." "What other name should I be called?" asked Maud, in surprise. "Nay, nay, I cannot play now, Maud," said Harry, "I would not even suffer a word to be spoken about you until I heard Captain Stanhope and his wife were coming from Oxford, and then I roused myself to write that letter, for I longed to see you once again, as the companion of my childhood and the friend----" "Prithee, I have received no letter," said Maud. "Marry, but I sent one, and the messenger said he had delivered it into the hand of Mistress Stanhope herself," said Harry. "But I am not Mistress Stanhope," said Maud, smiling. Harry raised himself in bed, and looked earnestly into her face. "You are not the wife of Captain Stanhope?" he repeated. "No, it is Mary who is married," said Maud. Harry fell back on his pillow, and Roger and Dame Coppins were obliged to administer some restoratives; but the moment he had revived he looked round for Maud, and feebly murmured her name.