"To me it appears very singular," began the other in a determined tone, "indeed most unaccountable, that you have never yet inquired for or mentioned one, whom I had every reason, until to-night, to believe to be very dear to you, and ever uppermost in your thoughts." "You mean," faltered Ronald— "My sister, Alice,—Miss Lisle," said Louis, giving vent to his long-concealed passion and spleen. "What am I to understand by this singularity of conduct, at once so cruel, so dishonourable, and—" "Halt, sir! Stay—beware what you utter!" replied Ronald fiercely, in turn. "As her brother, I demand an immediate explanation!" cried the other, starting from the ground, while he grew pale with anger. "By heavens! you shall have none." "None! Do you then—" "Speak lower, sir. I am not accustomed to be addressed in this imperious way. Fassifern himself would not dare to speak to me thus. Restrain your manner, or the soldiers will observe it." "By the gods!" said the other, in a tone of fierce irony, "I little thought to find that one of the Stuarts of Lochisla,—a family, a house, that have ever prided themselves on their notions of honour and noble feeling,—would behave thus to a gentle and too confiding girl. But I will arrange this matter at another time." "And Lord Hyndford?" Louis changed colour evidently. "How, Mr. Lisle,—how can you thus get into heroics with me," said Ronald, observing it, "and in so bad a cause?" "Cause, sir! Your conduct is at once unbecoming either a soldier or a gentleman," exclaimed the bold boy stoutly, "and a stern reckoning must be rendered at another time!" Ronald smiled scornfully, while his eyes flashed, and his trembling fingers involuntarily sought the basket-hilt of his sword; but he passed his hand over his hot throbbing forehead, and subduing his emotions, turned haughtily upon his heel and withdrew. And thus ended his first interview with the brother of Alice, after their long separation. * * * * * Seeking a solitary part of the bivouac, he laid himself under the shelter of a bush, and yielding to the excessive fatigue that oppressed him, fell into a deep sleep, which was destined to be of very short duration. Meanwhile Louis Lisle, unable to enjoy the slumber which sealed the eyelids of the surrounding soldiers, sat listlessly by the flaring fire, watching its red crackling embers for hours, while his young heart was so filled with sorrow, indignation, and disappointment at what he considered the altered behaviour of Ronald Stuart, that he could have wept like a child but for very shame. At last, overcome by the wine, of which he had drunk deeply to drown thought, and by the heat of the blazing faggots, he stretched himself upon the turf and dropped asleep, to dream of his happy home and the fair sister he loved so dearly.