as you would lift a puppy-dog. Saw him do it myself. I knew them both out there."
"Oh? Where did you meet them!"
"Well, it was rather curious. I suppose you heard of the great disaster at that place with that awful name. Well, I was at a beastly hole called Helpmakaar, when a fellow came riding like anything from Rorke's Drift, telling us what had happened, and that the Zulus were coming. So we all set to and worked like mad, and just as we had got the place a little fit for them, somebody shouted that he saw them coming. That was just as it was getting dark. I ran to the wall to look, and saw, not the Zulus, but a great big fellow carrying a dead man in his arms, followed by a Kafir leading three horses. At least, I thought the fellow was dead, but he wasn't--he had been struck by lightning. We let him in; and such a sight as they were you never saw, all soaked with blood from top to toe!"
"Ah! And how did they come like that?"
"They were the only survivors of a volunteer corps called Alston's Horse. They killed all the Zulus that were attacking them, when the Zulus had killed everybody except them. Then they came away, and the blind fellow--that is, Sir Ernest--got struck in a storm; fellows often do out there."
Eva put further questions, and listened with breathless interest to the story of Ernest's and Jeremy's wonderful escape, so far as the details were known to Mr. Jasper, quite regardless of the pitiless fire that young gentleman was keeping on herself through his eyeglass. At last, reluctantly enough, he rose to go.
"I must be off now, Mrs. Plowden; I want to go and call on Sir Ernest at the hotel. He lent me a Derringer pistol to practise at a bottle with, and I forgot to give it back."
Eva turned the full battery of her beautiful eyes upon him. She saw that the young gentleman was struck, and determined to make use of him. Women are unscrupulous when they have an end in view.
"I am sorry you must go; but I hope you will come and see me again, and tell me some more about the war and the battles."
"You are very kind," he stammered. "I shall be delighted."
He did not think it necessary to add that he had not had the luck to see a shot fired himself. Why should he?
"By the way, if you are going to see Sir Ernest, do you think you could give him a private message from me? I have a reason for not wishing it to be overheard."
"O yes, I daresay I can. Nothing would give me greater pleasure."
"You are very good." Another glance. "Will you tell him that I wish he would take a fly and come to see me? I shall be in all this afternoon."
A pang of jealousy shot through the cherubic bosom, but he comforted himself with the reflection that a fine woman like that could not care for a "blind fellow."
"O, certainly, I will try."
"Thank you"; and she extended her hand.
He took it, and intoxicated by those superb eyes, ventured to press it tenderly. A mild wonder took possession of Eva's mind that anybody so very young could have developed such an astonishing amount of impudence, but she did not resent the pressure. What did she care about having her hand squeezed when it was a question of seeing Ernest?
Poor deluded cherub!
CHAPTER IV
AFTER MANY DAYS
Within an hour of the departure of Lieutenant Jasper, Eva heard a fly draw up at the door. Then came an interval and the sound of two people walking up the steps, one of whom stumbled a good deal; then a ring.
"Is Mrs. Plowden at home?" said a clear voice, the well-remembered tones of which sent the blood to her head and then back to her heart with a rush.
"Yes, sir."
"Oh! Wait here, flyman. Now, my good girl, I must ask you to give me your hand, for I am not in a condition to find my way about strange places."
Another pause, and the drawing-room opened, and the maid came in, leading Ernest, who wore a curious, drawn look upon his face.
"How do you do?" she said, in a low voice, coming and taking him by the hand. "That will do, Jane."
He did not speak till the door closed; he only looked at her with those searching blind eyes.
Thus they met again after many years.
She led him to a sofa, and he sat down.
"Do not leave go of my hand," he said quickly; "I have not yet got used to talking to people in the dark."
She sat down on the sofa beside him, feeling frightened and yet happy. For awhile they remained silent; apparently they could find nothing to say, and, after all, silence seemed most fitting. She had never thought to sit hand in hand with him again. She looked at him; there was no need to keep a guard over her loving glances, for he was blind. At length she broke the silence.
"Were you surprised to get my message?" she asked, gently.
"Yes; it was like getting a message from the dead. I never expected to see you again. I thought that you had quite passed out of my life."
"So you had forgotten me?"
"Why do you say such a thing to me? You must know Eva, that it is impossible for me to forget you; I almost wish that it were possible. I meant that you had passed out of my outward life, for out of my mind you can never pass."
Eva hung her head and was silent though his words sent a thrill of happiness through her. So she had not quite lost him after all.
"Listen, Eva," Ernest went on, gathering himself together, and speaking sternly enough now, with a strange suppressed energy that frightened her. "How you came to do what you have done you best know."
"It is done; do not let us speak of it. I was not altogether to blame," she broke in.
"I was not going to speak of it. But I was going to say this, now while I have the chance, because time is short, and I think it right that you should know the truth. I was going to tell you first that for what you have done I freely forgive you."
"O Ernest!"
"It is," he went on, not heeding her, "a question that you can settle with your conscience and your God. But I wish to tell you what it is that you have done. You have wrecked my life, and made it an unhappy thing; you have taken that from me which I can never have to give again; you have embittered my mind, and driven me to sins of which I should not otherwise have dreamed. I loved you, and you gave me proofs that I could not doubt that I had won your love. You let me love you. Then when the hour of trial came you deserted and morally destroyed me, and the great and holy affection that should have been the blessing of my life has become its curse."
Eva covered her face with her hands and sat silent.
"You do not answer me, Eva," he said presently, with a little laugh. "Perhaps you find what I have to say difficult to answer, or perhaps you think I am taking a liberty."
"You
