confined to the mere delivering of the despatches; that service performed, I was free to return immediately.
I bid my aged father farewell—it was the last time I saw him. To my other friends I said cheerfully au revoir, expecting to return to them shortly.
But my greatest conflict was to come. I had encountered perils, privation, and faced death itself; I had fought savages and the wild beasts of the mountains; but to approach this tender heart, that had been affianced to my own for years, unmanned me. That heart that was then so light, so buoyant with hope, so full of confidence in the future, that I must plunge in utter darkness by the intelligence that in a few short hours I must leave her! Could I have communicated it to her by fighting a score of Indians, how much my pain would have been mitigated! But time was urgent, and the sacred obligation to the lady must be performed.
I called on my sweetheart; she looked more lovely than ever. She remarked my troubled looks. "James," she said, "you look saddened; what is the matter? Are you unwell?"
"No, Eliza, I am well; but"
"But what, James? What has happened? Speak!"
Knowing that I had no time for delay, I felt it my duty to break the news to her at once.
"My dear girl," I said, "I have loved you long and ardently. I have waited to see if the affection which you shared with me in childhood would stand the proof of maturer years. We are now both matured in years, and are capable of judging our own hearts. Through all my sufferings and dangers, my devotion to you has grown with my growth and strengthened with my strength. We have decided on the day for our indissoluble union. But, Eliza, I am yet young; my means of supporting you as I could wish are inadequate. I have just received a very tempting offer from General Ashley."
"What to do, James?"
"He offers me one thousand dollars to carry despatches to the mountains, which admits of my immediate return."
"And are you going?"
"That is what I have come to inform you, Eliza. Under-
