My heart beat lightly, happily, and rapidly, when I saw the shadow of Ruth's figure thrown in a somewhat colossal outline, however, upon the curtains; and, fortunately, without disturbing Abraham Clod, the groom, I reached the window, before Ruth had either retired to rest or extinguished her light. I know that this clandestine visit was rather a wrong proceeding; but in extenuation I have only to plead the rashness of youth on one hand, and Nathan Wylie's severity on the other; besides, at eighteen one does not value the opinion of the world much, or scan such matters too closely. On peeping in I saw Ruth pinning up her bright brown hair, and beginning to unfasten the hooks of her bodice; then her dimpled elbows and tapered arms shone white as alabaster in the light of her candle; so I hastened to tap on the window. "Good Heaven!" she exclaimed, starting round with alarm expressed in her pretty face, and her dark eyes dilated; "what is that--who is there?" "I, I--don't you know me?" said I, with my nose flattened against a pane of glass. "Basil--is it Basil?" "Yes." "At my window, and at this time of night!" said she, blushing and hastening forward to open the sash; "wait until I get a shawl--I was just about to undress. How very odd; but what do you want?" "To see you--to speak with you--" "But, Basil, consider----" said she, trembling. "I consider nothing," I exclaimed, throwing my arms round her, and kissing her at the window. "Mercy! take care lest you fall." "This separation renders me miserable; for two whole days I have not seen you." Her kiss, so tender and loving, agitated me so deeply that my voice was almost inarticulate. "And mewed up here, I have been so wretched too, dear Basil," she murmured, while placing her arms caressingly round my neck, as I crept in and closed the window; "how cruel of uncle Nathan to treat us so." "He has written to my grandfather, and in such harsh terms that more mischief will be in store for me," said I, bitterly. "Take courage, dear Basil," whispered Ruth, as we sat with our arms entwined and cheek pressed against flushing cheek; "those wicked people would seem to have done you already all the harm that is possible." "I know not; for your uncle spoke of having me sent to sea; and I have heard at times of people being kidnapped by the pressgang." "The pressgang--you!" exclaimed Ruth, her fine eyes filling with pity and indignation; "they dare not think of such a thing. Are you not the heir to a baronetcy?" "True--one of our oldest Nova Scotian baronetcies; but so is my cousin Tony, if--if----" "What?" "I were sent out of the way or disposed of for ever." "Of that title, dearest Basil; neither your grandfather's wicked hatred, nor the cunning of my uncle--alas! that I should have to say so of one so near--can deprive you."