But Miss Sally was not going to betray her own disappointment by showing a change from her oft-expressed opinion of the rebel captain,--particularly in the presence of Mr. Valentine. So she answered: "You met him so once, three years ago." "I had a less scrupulous sense of propriety then," replied Colden, raging inwardly. "But, as he's a rebel and deserter," pursued Miss Sally, "was it not your duty as a soldier to take him, just now?" "I'd have done so, had my men been here," growled the major. "Elizabeth ought to've had her servants hold him. I had half a mind to order them, in the King's name, but I never can bring myself to oppose her, she's so masterful! By George, though, I'll have him yet! My two fellows will soon come up. They shall give chase. He will leave tracks in the snow." Colden went to the window, and peered out as Peyton himself had done not long before. The flakes were coming down as thick as ever. "I don't see my rascals yet!" he muttered. "They've stopped at the tavern, I'll warrant." And he continued to gaze eagerly out, impatient that his men should arrive before the new-fallen snow should cover his enemy's tracks. Old Mr. Valentine, having exhausted his present stock of mutterings, now walked over to Miss Sally, who had sat down near the spinet. "Miss Williams," said he, "this is the first chance I've had to speak to you alone in a week." "But we're not alone," said Miss Sally, motioning her head towards Colden. "He's nobody," contemptuously replied the octogenarian. "A man that damns tobacco is nobody. So you may go ahead and speak out. What's your answer, ma'am?" "Oh, Mr. Valentine, not now! You must give me time." "That's what you said before," he complained. She had, indeed, said it before, scores of times. "Well, give me more time, then," she replied. "How much?" asked the old man, in a matter-of-fact way. "Oh, I don't know! Long enough for me to make up my mind." Thus far, this conversation had followed in the exact lines of many that had preceded it, but now Mr. Valentine made a departure from the customary form. "I think," said he, "if my other two wives had taken as long as you to make up their minds, I shouldn't have been twice a widower by now." "Oh, Mr. Valentine!" said Miss Sally, in a sweetly reproachful way. "Now you know--" But he cut her speech off short. "Very likely," said he. "I don't know. Well, take your time. Only please remember I haven't so very much time left! Better take me while I'm here to be had! Good night, ma'am!" And he went to the dining-room to fortify himself for his long homeward walk through the snow.