CHAPTER VI.

THE ATTACK AND ITS RESULTS.

"You have seen hard service for your years, major,” said Miss Moncrieffe, as they rode along, and the young girl looked at the beardless soldier by her side, with a patronizing air which would have become a matron of forty.

The major smiled as he interpreted her look, and retorted: "I think you, for your years, have a decided advantage over me.”

"Ah! but I've never seen real service," she replied, archly.

"Would you be afraid ?" he asked, earnestly.

"I am a soldier's daughter," she said, commencing with a smile, and closing with something of hauteur in her manner.

"Suppose the Cow-boys should attack us," he said. willing to test her, and scanning her face as he spoke.

"I think I could make sure of one, perhaps two," and she pointed with the handle of her riding-whip to the holsters which contained her pistols. "If I should miss them both, I should trust to Providence and Selim's heels."

"I hope your courage won't be tested; but in case we should be attacked, please to observe what I say, for you are under my charge-you must fall to the rear; and if there are too many for us, you must make Selim show his heels, and ride directly back to Mrs. Adams."

"I'll have two shots at them any how, before I do start. But what would Patsy say if I was to leave you, and what message should I give her ?" and she peered in his face with an expression which brought the blood to his cheeks.

"Never mind Patsy," he replied, resuming his composure, "I would rather speak to you than of her, a thousand times."

Again she fixed her searching eyes on him; but this time he not only met her glance unabashed, but returned it with such interest, it was now her turn to blush-for there was an intensity of admiration in his look which she could not fail to interpret. "I don't believe you, major," she said, at the same time touching Selim slightly with her whip, causing him to spring forward some yards ahead of her escort, who, however, quickly joined her, and for a few moments they rode in silence. During these few moments, both were revolving in their minds the words and looks of the past minute.

Margaret saw in the young officer, who had already earned such fame, one whom any woman might be

proud to win.

He was young, handsome, distinguished, and held already a high post of honor and confidence, and her heart acknowledged his vast superiority in everything pertaining to a gentleman and soldier, over any she had ever met. On his part, he saw a lovely, dashing, fearless girl, very beautiful, very fascinating, polished and refined in her manners, and well fitted by birth, manner, and education, young as she was, for any position. The contrast between the high-born girl by his side, and the truthful, but uneducated Patsy, was so great, Margaret could not but gain by the comparison. He thought what a wife she would make, and he determined, in forgetfulness of all he had said to Patsy, and heedless of the pangs which his faithlessness would cause her, to make the effort to win this paragon.

Strange to say, neither of them for a moment gave thought to the gulf which separated them. She, the daughter of a British officer-he, her father's enemy by choice and principle. It was a case of decided and most desperate love at first sight; and each, unknown to the other, had succumbed to the influence of the little blind God who rules the world.

"I was not jesting, Miss Moncrieffe,” said the major after this brief silence, which led to such a momentous result, "when I spoke about the Cow-boys," and he spoke with deep earnestness.

"Nor was I, when I spoke about my pistols and

Selim," she said, smilingly. "You don't know what a girl can do until she is compelled to. I have smelled gunpowder before," she added, with a bright, merry laugh. "I practise with my pistols every day, and would shoot even with you for a wager."

"And I would not with you," said the major; "you would be sure to win in anything you undertake, and it is never allowed to bet on a certainty," and he bent on her an admiring and searching glance.

Perhaps you would let me win," she said, archly, returning his glance with one so full of expression, it brought the blood to his face.

"I could not help myself, I am sure," he added, with deep earnestness; "you always win when you choose." "Not always, I am afraid," she said, with a half sigh, and she glanced at him timidly; and as she caught his eye fixed intently on her, she averted her head, so that he could not discover the blush which crimsoned her cheeks, called there by her own words.

"With me you would be sure; for, although I am a soldier, I would surrender to you without an effort at resistance."

"Would you, indeed ?" she said, turning to him, a bright sunny smile illumining her face, which, animated as it was, presented as lovely a picture as a lover or painter ever gazed upon.

"Upon my honor, Miss Margaret, as a soldier and a gentleman, I would.”

"How am I to take you, major?" she added, half archly, though her countenance, as she spoke, wore an expression of earnestness, very little in unison with her light and trifling manner.

"In any manner you choose, only take me," he said, with a glance of the most profound admiration, and he fixed upon her a look which spoke the intensity of the feelings which animated him, for he was fairly trembling with emotion.

66 There's my hand on that bargain," and the same bright smile which had conquered him, lighted up her beautiful face. "Henceforth you are my prisoner."

"Forever, and gladly ;" and the delicate hand was seized by the impassioned and conquered soldier. "Yours ever, yours only, only keep me." And thus, in these few moments, and in such few words, were settled the destinies of two just entering upon life.

Major Burr, who had won imperishable renown by his coolness and bravery, on every occasion, when either had been called forth; who had passed waistdeep through the snow to attack the frowning fortress of Quebec; who, when the chance shot fired by a sailor, carried death and desolation into the ranks of the Americans; when a hasty retreat was ordered by the one who should have led them to a renewed attack with the certainty of success, refused to leave his beloved commander who lay cold in death, but staggered through the snow, bearing his precious bur