"Thank you, dearest," and the encircling arm of the impassioned officer drew her form closer to his beating heart. "Gertrude, you are witness of her vow, and before you, under more auspicious circumstances, will I claim its fulfilment. Oh Julia, Julia, this indeed does recompense me for many a long hour of anxiety and doubt." "And hers too have been hours of anxiety and doubt," said the gentle Gertrude. "Ever since the war has been spoken of as certain, Julia has been no longer the gay girl she was. Her dejection has been subject of remark with all, and such is her dislike to any allusion to the past, that she never even rallies Captain Cranstoun on his bear-skin adventure of last winter on the ice." "Ah," interrupted the American, "never shall I forget the evening that preceded that adventure. It was then, dearest Julia, that I ventured to express the feeling with which you had inspired me. It was then I had first the delight of hearing from your lips that I need not entirely despair. I often, often, think of that night." "Of course you have not yet received my note, Ernest. Perhaps you will deem it inconsiderate in me to have written, but I could not resist the desire to afford you what I conceived would be a gratification, by communicating intelligence of ourselves." "Note! what note! and by whom conveyed?" "Have you not heard," inquired Gertrude, warming into animation, "that the General has sent a flag this morning to Detroit, and, under its protection, two prisoners captured by my cousin, who is the officer that conducts them." "And to that cousin you have confided the letter?" interrupted the Colonel, somewhat eagerly. "No, not my cousin," said Julia, "but to one I conceived better suited to the trust. You must know that my father, with his usual hospitality, insisted on Major Montgomerie and his niece, the parties in question, taking up their abode with us during the short time they remained." "And to Miss Montgomerie you gave your letter," hurriedly exclaimed the Colonel, starting to his feet, and exhibiting a countenance of extreme paleness. "Good heaven, Ernest! what is the matter? Surely you do not think me guilty of imprudence in this affair. I was anxious to write to you,--I imagined you would be glad to hear from me, and thought that the niece of one of your officers would be the most suitable medium of communication. I therefore confessed to her my secret, and requested her to take charge of the letter." "Oh, Julia, you have been indeed imprudent. But what said she--how looked she when you confided to her our secret?" "She made no other remark than to ask how long our attachment had existed, and her look and voice were calm, and her cheek underwent no variation from the settled paleness observable there since her arrival." "And in what manner did she receive her trust?" again eagerly demanded the Colonel.