the town.

"What would you have, Goodman Parker?" cried the widow.

"Lackaday, is it you, Mistress Margaret?" replied the innkeeper. "I was
afraid it might be your sister Mary; for I hate to see a young woman in
trouble, when I have n't a word of comfort to whisper her."

"For Heaven's sake, what news do you bring?" screamed Margaret.

"Why, there has been an express through the town within this half-hour,"
said Goodman Parker, "travelling from the eastern jurisdiction with
letters from the governor and council. He tarried at my house to refresh
himself with a drop and a morsel, and I asked him what tidings on the
frontiers. He tells me we had the better in the skirmish you wot of, and
that thirteen men reported slain are well and sound, and your husband
among them. Besides, he is appointed of the escort to bring the
captivated Frenchers and Indians home to the province jail. I judged you
would n't mind being broke of your rest, and so I stepped over to tell
you. Good night."

So saying, the honest man departed; and his lantern gleamed along the
street, bringing to view indistinct shapes of things, and the fragments
of a world, like order glimmering through chaos, or memory roaming over
the past. But Margaret stayed not to watch these picturesque effects.
Joy flashed into her heart, and lighted it up at once; and breathless,
and with winged steps, she flew to the bedside of her sister. She
paused, however, at the door of the chamber, while a thought of pain
broke in upon her.