She had flung aside the blue and yellow cloak which, during the long hours of our night ride had so completely shrouded her, and stood before me dressed in some soft clinging stuff of a delicate brown color, so cut and fashioned as to most become her rounded, graceful form. About her neck a narrow strip of creamy lace was fitted, the full throat rendered whiter by the contrast, while at her wrists a similar ornament alone served to relieve the simple plainness of her attire. The flaming fire lighted up her face, making it seem to flush with the dancing glow, which sparkled like diamonds in her eyes, and touched with ruddy light the dark, dishevelled hair. Hers was a young, fair face,--a face to love and trust forever, yet with a pride in it, and a certain firmness also that somehow was good to see. All this I noted with one quick upward glance, and with a sudden thrill of the heart such as I had never known before. CHAPTER VII A DISCIPLE OF SIR WALTER I have no doubt she wished me to see her thus. Every woman worth the winning is a bit of a coquette, and none can be utterly disdainful of the lesson their mirror tells. But even as I gazed upon her, my admiration deeper than my pain, the arch expression of her face changed; there came a sudden rush of pity, of anxiety into those clear, challenging eyes, and with one quick step she drew nearer and bent above me. “Oh, Captain Wayne,” she cried, her warm, womanly heart conquering all prejudice, “you are badly hurt and bleeding. Why did you not tell me? Please let me aid you.” “I fear I must,” I replied grimly. “I would gladly spare you, for indeed I do not believe my injury sufficiently serious to cause alarm, but I find I have only one arm I can use at present; the brute got his teeth into the other.” The tender compassion within her eyes was most pleasant to see. “Oh, believe me, I can do it.” She spoke bravely, a sturdy ring of confidence in the voice, although at the thought her face paled. “I have been in the hospitals at Baltimore, and taken care of wounded soldiers. If there was only some water here!” She glanced about, dreading the possibility of having to go forth into the night alone in search of a spring or well. “I think you will find a pail on the bench yonder,” I said, for from where I leaned against the wall I could see out into the shed. “It was doubtless left for the dog to drink from.” She came back with it, tearing down a cloth from off a peg in the wall as she passed, and then, wearing a resolute air of authority, knelt beside me, and with rapid fingers flung back my jacket, unfastening the rough army shirt, and laid bare, so far as was possible, the lacerated shoulder. It gave me intense pain, for the shirt had become matted to the wound by drying blood, so that in spite of her soft touch and my own clinched teeth a slight groan broke from my lips.