“See here, dearest; she not only loved him and won his love; but she betrothed herself to him. And he at least has been faithful to that betrothal. Listen, my own! If Elfrida were not the promised wife of Goldsborough, I would not look on for an instant and permit her to be carried off by him; or, being his promised wife, if her feelings had really changed towards him, I would not interfere to deliver her from his power. But neither of these hypotheses exist. At heart she loves him still; loves him more than ever, that he has proved _his_ love, by daring so much for her sake! But Elfie is given to heroics—real heroics and mock heroics. She has embraced the cause of the Union! It is her cue to hate ‘treason’ and to love ‘patriotism.’ And left to herself she will sacrifice her lover, whom she adores, for her country that she only thinks she adores! But let Goldsborough succeed in carrying her off, and making her his wife, by force if you like to call it so, and Elfie will be as happy as a queen in the greenwood.” “But only see how she resisted her abduction! See how she wounded her captor in her struggles to escape!” “All done to deceive _herself_, as well as her lover, into the idea that she hates him as a ‘traitor’ ought to be hated—according to her creed! Ha, ha, ha! We shall have a stormy wedding at the Black Bear’s Pass to-morrow; but in a day or two the storm will have passed and all will be sunshine!” laughed Vittorio, gayly. “But how, in heaven’s name, is any marriage to take place without the woman’s consent? Elfie may be carried off and kept prisoner by physical force; but no physical force on earth can make her the _wife_ of Albert Goldsborough!” “He will find a way to make her consent to marry him, and make her confess that she loves him, too!” laughed Vittorio. “Judging from what I had seen, I should think she would tear him to pieces first!” “She can’t! He’s tough! She’ll tear him frightfully, no doubt! But he will stand a great deal of tearing from those pretty hands, with the certainty that it will all end in their caressing him. But this path is becoming very narrow and obstructed. Let me go before, dearest, and put aside the branches for you,” said Colonel Corsoni, taking the lead. So they journeyed on until sometime in the afternoon, when once more they encountered Goldsborough and Elfie. He was pausing at a forest rivulet to let his horse drink. “We need something to drink as well as our beasts. What do you think, Colonel?” inquired Goldsborough. In reply Corsoni handed the speaker a flask of brandy, from which Goldsborough took a deep draught. “That is a genuine article, Colonel, where ever you got it from,” he said, handing back the flask to its owner. “A present from Mutchison,” said Corsoni.