For an instant Harper paused, and then, folding her hands on his breast, replied solemnly, “I cannot, and I will not!” and added, “If the blessing of a stranger can profit you, receive it.”  And he retired, with a delicacy that all felt, to his own apartment.

In the afternoon the sky cleared, and as the party assembled on the lawn to admire the view which was now disclosed, the pedlar suddenly appeared.

“The rig’lars must be out from below,” he remarked, with great emphasis; “horse are on the road; there will soon be fighting near us.”  And he glanced his eye towards Harper with evident uneasiness.

As Birch concluded, Harper, who had been contemplating the view, turned to his host and mentioned that his business would not admit of unnecessary delay; he would therefore avail himself of the fine evening to ride a few miles on his journey.

There was a mutual exchange of polite courtesy between the host and his parting guest, and as Harper frankly offered his hand to Captain Wharton, he remarked, “The step you have undertaken is one of much danger, and disagreeable consequences to yourself may result from it.  In such a case I may have it in my power to prove the gratitude I owe your family for its kindness.”

“Surely, sir,” cried the father, “you will keep secret the discovery which your being in my house has enabled you to make?”

Harper turned to the speaker, and answered mildly, “I have learned nothing in your family, sir, of which I was ignorant; but your son is safer from my knowledge of his visit than he would be without it.”

And, bowing to the whole party, he rode gracefully through the little gate, and was soon lost to view.

“Captain Wharton, do you go in to-night?” asked the pedlar abruptly, when this scene had closed.

“No!” said the captain laconically.

“I rather guess you had better shorten your visit,” continued the pedlar, coolly.

“No, no, Mr. Birch; here I stay till morning!  I brought myself out, and can take myself in.  Our bargain went no further than to procure my disguise and to let me know when the coast was clear, and in the latter particular you were mistaken.”

“I was,” said the pedlar, “and the greater the reason why you should go back to-night.  The pass I gave you will serve but once.”

“Here I stay this night, come what will.”

“Captain Wharton,” said the pedlar, with great deliberation, “beware a tall Virginian with huge whiskers; he is below you; the devil can’t deceive him; I never could but once.”

III.—­A Dangerous Situation

The family were assembled round the breakfast-table in the morning when Caesar, who was looking out of the window, exclaimed, “Run, Massa Harry, run; here come the rebel horse.”

Captain Wharton’s sisters, with trembling hands, had hastily replaced the original disguise, when the house was surrounded by dragoons, and the heavy tread of a trooper was heard outside the parlour door.  The man who now entered the room was of colossal stature, with dark hair around his brows in profusion, and his face nearly hid in the whiskers by which it was disfigured.  Frances saw in him at once the man from whose scrutiny Harvey Birch had warned them there was much to be apprehended.