The tribute Mrs.
Fairfax had paid him--this appreciation of his integrity and honesty by an enemy and a woman like herself--troubled her, frightened her, and filled her with her first jealousy! What if this woman should tell him all; what if she should make use of him as Marion had of her! Zephas was a strong Northern partisan, but was he proof against the guileful charms of such a devil?
She had never thought before of questioning his fidelity to her; she suddenly remembered now some rough pleasantries of Captain Simmons in regard to the inconstancy of his calling.

No! there was but one thing for her to do: she would make a clean breast to him; she would tell him everything she had done except the fatal fancy that compelled her to it! She began to look for his coming now with alternate hope and fear--with unabated impatience! The night that he should have arrived passed slowly; morning came, but not Zephas.

When the mist had lifted she ran impatiently to the rocks and gazed anxiously towards the lower bay.

There were a few gray sails scarce distinguishable above the grayer water--but they were not his.

She glanced half mechanically seaward, and her eyes became suddenly fixed.