'G.o.d send you peace!' cried Arwed, overpowered by sorrow, and rushing forth, he soon, with his faithful servant, found himself upon the high road.

CHAPTER XLI.

Late in the autumn of the same year the governor was again sitting in the hall of his forefathers, whose statues remained, hung with mourning c.r.a.pe. Before him stood a chess board, and, having no companion, he was amusing himself by playing the games contained in a book which he held in his hand. The unhappy man had altered much. Each successive week had left the wrinkles of a year upon his face, and it was a sad sight to see how he exerted himself to dispel painful recollections by a forced attention to the intricate course of the game.

At that moment the footsteps of horses were heard in the court, and before he could hasten to the window, Arwed entered the hall and rushed into his arms.

'Welcome, my son!' cried the uncle, perusing his features with intense interest; 'though I am sorry to see the expression of dark despondency which hangs upon your face. The warrior who has done his duty, must return home from the strife with joy.'

'That depends upon the nature and result of the strife, my good uncle.

But my whole life has been nothing but a long chain of frustrated wishes and abortive plans. The myrtle-wreath was torn from my brow, the laurel withers even while I grasp it, and I have failed to obtain the cypress crown.'

'Is the war over?' asked the uncle.

'For the present, yes,' answered Arwed, 'until it may please our enemies to recommence it--for there is no talk of peace either with the Danes or Russians.'

'Not with the nearest and most powerful of our enemies?' indignantly cried the governor. 'Woman's rule is everywhere the same--too weak for resistance, too wilful for reconciliation. Poor Sweden!'

'Rhenskioeld,' said Arwed, 'was already in full retreat before the Danes, when I joined him. I went also to the army which covered Stockholm; but when I arrived the Russians were drawing off their forces. Desolation and pillage was the object of their landing, and most fully and fearfully was it accomplished. We indeed followed the retiring enemy and had some trifling contests with the rear guard, but when the English fleet under Norris approached our coasts, the barbarians quickly embarked and left the country with immense booty.'

'To have had the desire and to have made an effort to save your country, is deserving of honor!' cried the uncle, extending his hand.

'Therefore once again welcome, my young hero.'

Arwed gave him his left hand, and the awkwardness with which he did it, drew the attention of his uncle to the fact.

'Why do you withhold from me the hand which has wielded the sword in defence of Sweden?' he asked with surprise.

'The impossibility of using it must be my excuse,' answered Arwed with a sorrowful glance towards his right arm, which was concealed under his coat.

'What is this?' cried the governor aghast. 'Are you wounded in the arm?'

'A Russian canister-shot shattered my hand in the last engagement,'

answered Arwed, 'and I was compelled to have it taken off at the wrist.'

'My poor son!' exclaimed the sympathizing uncle. 'That is a great misfortune. The laurels of victory are some compensation for wounds received in battle; but to be crippled in a miserable unimportant skirmish, is the most dreadful thing imaginable.'

'It is indeed, uncle!' cried Arwed; 'and I can now say with the king of France at Pavia, that I have lost every thing but honor!'

'You are right,' replied the old man with a tremulous voice, his thoughts recurring to his fugitive daughter. 'Happy they who can say as much!' and with a deep sigh his white head sank upon his laboring bosom.

New footsteps in the court yard interrupted the sad pause, and immediately afterwards Megret entered the hall, with a face yet more gloomy than Arwed's.

'I have returned once more,' said he, in a singular tone, as he greeted the uncle and nephew.

'I am glad to see you, colonel,' answered the governor. 'Gyllensten has become very lonesome and desolate, and I am glad you have once more obtained a furlough in these warlike times.'

'The queen's grace has given me leave of absence forever,' answered Megret with bitterness. 'I am dismissed the service.'

'Dismissed the service!' repeated the governor. 'It must be as major general then. I congratulate you.'

'I cannot accept your congratulations,' said Megret.

'I have received my dismission unwished for, without advancement, and without pension.'

'You jest!' cried the governor; 'how could it be possible?'

'I know no other reason,' answered Megret, 'than the obligations under which I have laid the queen and her husband. Great obligations! It has cost me much to serve them, very much! perhaps too much! The queen might possibly have despaired of being able suitably to reward me, and has therefore chosen the most convenient way in which the great of the earth reward past services. She repays with ingrat.i.tude!'

'These are strange observations, colonel,' said Arwed distrustfully, 'and you would do us a favor by giving a commentary upon the mysterious text.'

'Let us speak of something more agreeable,' said Megret, drawing his hand over his forehead, as though he would have wiped something from it. 'How does the charming countess?'

The governor trembled with agitation, and looked beseechingly at Arwed, as if he would have called him to his aid.

Just as Arwed was about to answer for him the servant entered to announce a Laplander from the parish of Lyksale, who had a secret and important communication to make to the governor.

'Conduct him to my cabinet!' commanded the latter, rising from his seat, and glad of the interruption.

'You have not yet answered my question,' said Megret; but the governor merely pointed to Arwed as he went out.

'Am I directed to you for my answer?' he asked Arwed with anxious interest. 'This evasion of my simple question surprises me, and would seem to indicate some misfortune. I hope no mischance has befallen Christine?'

'She left the castle on the night of your departure,' answered Arwed.

'She must have fled, then, with the miserable Mac Donalbain!' cried the enraged Megret.

'Probably,' answered Arwed. 'She did not indeed name her seducer in her farewell note to her father, but all appearances point to him as the guilty one.'

'And has no attempt been made to bring her back and punish the miscreant for his villany?' asked Megret.

'The father has renounced his daughter forever,' answered Arwed, 'and I must beseech you never more to mention her in his presence. It overpowers the unhappy man to be reminded of her.'

'This is a consequence of my fatal delay!' cried Megret wildly, and beating his forehead. 'There is now nothing, nothing more in this world which can give me joy. My honor wounded by unworthy treatment, my love scorned and betrayed, what now remains for me?'

'A consciousness of rect.i.tude, colonel,' said Arwed earnestly. 'It is a firm rock of safety amid the storms of life.'

'Consciousness of rect.i.tude!' cried Megret with frightful vehemence, and then drawing a deep sigh, he hastened from the apartment.

'Some horrid secret lies in this man's breast, like a sleeping tiger in his lair,' said Arwed. 'Wo to me, if I should be called to draw it forth.'

CHAPTER XLII.

Arwed had just risen the next morning, when the old steward came to him with a troubled countenance. 'By your permission,' asked he with great deference, 'did my lord inform you when he should return?'