Arthur Wayne was looking out from his lattice above, and his eye chanced
to turn that way at the moment of the meeting. He started as if struck
with a sudden pang, and his cheek, always pale, became of an ashen hue.
Long he gazed with labored breath upon the pair, as if unable to realize
what he had seen; then, with a suppressed moan, he sank into a chair,
and leaned his brow heavily upon his hand. Thus for half an hour he
remained motionless; it was only after a second summons that he roused
himself and descended to the morning meal.

At the breakfast table Oriana was in high spirits, and failed to observe
that Arthur was more sad than usual. Her brother, however, was
preoccupied and thoughtful, and even Harold, although happy in the
society of one he loved, could not refrain from moments of abstraction.
Of course the adventure of the preceding night was concealed from
Oriana, but it yet furnished the young men with matter for reflection;
and, coupled with the exciting intelligence from South Carolina, it
suggested, to Harold especially, a vision of an unhappy future. It was
natural that the thought should obtrude itself of how soon a barrier
might be placed between friends and loved ones, and the most sacred ties
sundered, perhaps forever.

Miss Randolph, Oriana's aunt, usually reserved and silent, seemed on
this occasion the most inquisitive and talkative of the party. Her
interest in the momentous turn that affairs had taken was naturally
aroused, and she questioned the young men closely as to their view of
the probable consequences.

"Surely," she remarked, "a nation of Christian people will choose some
alternative other than the sword to adjust their differences."