and drum over the bodies of my Southern countrymen."

"Those Southern countrymen, that you seem to love better than the
country they would ruin, would have little remorse in marching over your
body, even among the ashes of your farm-house. Doubtless you would stand
at your threshold, and welcome their butchery, should their ruffian
legions ravage our land as far as your Green Mountains."

"I do not think they will invade one foot of Northern soil, unless
compelled by strict military necessity. However, should the State to
which I owe allegiance be attacked by foreign or domestic foe, I will
stand among its defenders. But, dear Harold, let us not argue this sad
subject, which it is grief enough but to contemplate. Tell me of your
plans, and how I shall communicate with you, while you are absent. My
distress about this unhappy war will be keener, when I feel that my dear
friend may be its victim."

Harold pressed his hand affectionately, and the two friends spoke of the
misty future, till Harold arose to depart. They had not mentioned
Oriana's name, though she was in their thoughts, and each, as he bade
farewell, knew that some part of the other's sadness was for her sake.

Arthur accompanied Harold a short distance up Broadway, and returning,
found at the office of the hotel, a letter, without post-mark, to his
address. He stepped into the reading-room to peruse it. It was from
Beverly, and ran thus:

"RICHMOND, _May_ --, 1861.

"DEAR ARTHUR: The departure of a friend gives me an opportunity to