She's quite right,--she's like to find no safer chance for it
than this. Noon,--there is a picket left on yonder hill till after that
time, certainly, and a hundred men or so in the fort. I might give Van
Vechten a hint of it--nay, I can return myself this afternoon, and if
she is not gone then, I will take it upon me she is not left a second
time. Of course Maitland would be likely to care for her safety. At all
events there's nothing else for us to do, at least there's but one
alternative, and that I have named to you.
[_They go out together_.
_Helen_. (_She has stood silently watching them_.) He has gone, without
one parting look--he has gone! So break the myriad-tied loves, it hath
taken a life to weave. This is a weary world.
(_She turns to her sister, who leans weeping on the window-seat_.)
Come, Annie, you and I will part in kindness, will we not? No cruel
words shall there be here. Pleasant hath your love been unto me, my
precious sister. Farewell, Annie.
_Annie_. Shall I never hear your voice again, that hath been the music
of my whole life? Is your face henceforth to be to me only a remembered
thing? Helen, you must not stay here.
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