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"Yes, a beautiful story is a thing Ned Ferry loves with a positive passion."

"No," I rejoined, "the first step would be the last."

Breathe, O! breathe to me, as these love-languid skies To yon twilight star breathe, Return, return!

I caught my breath in rapture and rode away. She was there yet when I looked back--once--and again--and again. And when I looked a last time still she had not moved. Oh, Camille, Camille! to this day I see you standing there in pink-edged white, pure, silent, motionless, a summer-evening cloud; while I, my body clad in its unstained--only because unused--new uniform, and my soul tricked out in the foolhardiness and vanity of a boy's innocence, rode forth into the night and into the talons of overmastering temptation.

"But, eh!" I exclaimed, "how could ever such as she mistake him for--"

"Captain Jewett ought to know," Ferry called back, and on that the questioner recognized us both. He became very stately. "Lieutenant Durand, I believe."

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