“My pure-hearted girl, forgive a request made so thoughtlessly.  I had not considered, as I should have done; yet you can appreciate the anxious feelings which dictated it.”  As she spoke, Mrs. Carlton clasped her friend to her heart, and wept on her shoulder.  No tear dimmed Mary’s eye; yet that she suffered, none who looked on her pale brow and writhing lips could doubt.  As she raised her head to reply, Dr. Bryant entered, and started visibly on seeing her, Mrs. Carlton endeavored to regain her composure; and, with a slightly faltering voice, asked how he succeeded in procuring horses?

“Better than I had hoped,” was the rejoinder; and he held out his hand to Mary.  She gave him hers, now cold as ice.  He held it a moment, and pressed it gently, saying:  “You see my sister is going to run away on the first intimation of danger.  I hope she has not infected you with her fears; though, to judge from your looks, I should almost predict a stampede in another direction.”

“Indeed you are quite right.  Florry and I are going with her; though we had decided on leaving before we knew she intended doing so.”

“Ah! you did not seem to apprehend any immediate danger when we conversed on this subject a few days since.  What has changed your views?”

“I have been warned not to risk the dangers attendant on the approaching conflict by a Mexican friend, whose attachment I have every reason to believe is sincere; and besides, it needed but little to augment my fears:  and Florry and I concluded, if practicable, to remove to a place of greater safety.”

“Can you be ready within two days, think you, Miss Mary? for, if we leave at all, it is advisable that we do so immediately.”

“Oh, yes!  I know we can be ready by that time.”

“Let me see—­how many additional horses shall we need?  Yourself, your cousin, and aunt, and myself.”

Mary looked eagerly at Mrs. Carlton; but she had averted her head; and for a moment a terrible struggle within kept the gentle girl silent.

“Dr. Bryant, I know you do not wish to leave here at this juncture, intensely interested as you are in the event, and I fear you are sacrificing your own wishes for our benefit.  Let me beg you to consult your inclinations, and do not feel it in the least incumbent on you to attend us, particularly when we are in the kind care of Mr. Carlton; and you have already done so much toward contributing to our comfort.”

“Thank you for your consideration.  Nevertheless, I shall not rest satisfied till I place you in safety on the banks of the Brazos.  One of my greatest pleasures has been to render you service, and you would not abridge them, I hope, by refusing my company on your journey?”

Mary’s eyes were fixed earnestly on his face while he spoke, and though there was no change in his kind, gentle tone, there came an undefinable expression over his noble countenance—­an expression in which coldness and sorrow predominated.  She could not understand him; yet a shudder crept though her frame, and a sensation of acute pain stole into her heart.  She felt as through a barrier had suddenly risen between them, yet could not analyze the cause.