“Has _he_ dared!――what, when he was warned, when he knew my wishes, my intentions; ah, he did not know _me_! Did he think I would be balked of my object? Does he think it is safe to come between me and my aim? Hilary, dearly shall you rue the day that you give your hand to that beggarly sailor. Bitterly shall you repent the deed! While you are still Hilary Duncan, you are unspeakably dear to me, and for love’s sake, while there is hope, I will be whatever you may wish; but once destroy that hope, once take from me all possibility of winning you, and I tell you, you will wish rather that a demon had crossed your path, than that you had thwarted me.” Indignant and offended, she raised her eyes to bid him leave her instantly, and they fell on the figure of Captain Hepburn himself, whose step on the wet turf had been inaudible, but who now stood in the door-way looking at them. Her start and exclamation made Charles release her hand and turn round too; and Hilary, profiting by her freedom, sprang toward her lover, and clasped his arm as if to claim his protection. “Take me away,” she whispered, in an agitated voice. Silently and gravely, he threw round her a cloak which he carried, and carefully wrapping her in it, he drew her hand under his arm, and prepared to leave the shed. She gave one glance at Charles; he was standing with his arms crossed, and a look of haughty indifference, which she believed to be affected. In another moment they had turned away, and were taking the path homeward; but before they had gone a hundred yards, they heard the sound of his horse’s hoofs at a sharp gallop, dashing along the road to “the Ferns.” The sounds died in the distance, and Hilary, relieved and overpowered at once, very nearly burst into tears. The storm was passing away, the rain had not quite ceased, but the sunbeams were struggling through the clouds, and every tree and shrub was fringed with glittering drops of light, while the effect of the flitting shadows chasing each other over the distant landscape was beautiful to see. “There is no hurry,” said Captain Hepburn, gently checking the impetuous steps with which Hilary had at first proceeded. “Do not agitate yourself, we are quite safe. The storm is all but over now, and you may walk quietly. It is pleasant to be together here, Hilary.” A gentle pressure of the arm on which she leaned, was her only answer, she had not quite self-command enough to speak. “I wish I had come a little sooner to look for you,” added he; “had you been long there?” “I don’t know; it seemed long, it was so disagreeable,” and her voice was checked by a sob. But recovering by an effort, she added immediately: “However, it is over now, and we need not refer to it.”