er your foe, Betty," cried Yorke, confronting her with face as pale
as her own, and in his admiration of her spirit and nobility forgetting
all else. "Say, rather, your adoring friend, who one day, God willing,
hopes to prove to you that there are British hearts which are true and
honest as yours, and that none will be more loyal to you than mine own."

A hot wave of color flashed up over Betty's charming face; her lips
trembled, but no words came from them. What was this impetuous young man
daring to say to her?

"The dawn is breaking over yonder hills," Geoffrey rushed on, "and
before the sun rises I must be as many miles away as my feet can carry
me. Farewell, farewell!--may God bless and keep you always. Go back
straightway into the mansion; I shall not stir step until I see you
safe." And through her brimming tears Betty realized that his kisses
were falling on her hands, as without a word she turned and fled toward
the open door. But when she reached it some new-born impulse tearing
madly at her heart made her pause, and looking back she saw Geoffrey
lift something from the grass at his feet which he waved toward her as
he sped down the path, and raising her hand to her gown she knew that he
had carried with him her breast-knot of rose-colored ribbon.

CHAPTER V

A LOYAL TRAITOR

Betty stumbled blindly over the threshold, and with shaking fingers
secured the outer bolt of the buttery door. Her head was whirling, and
she dared not stop there even to think over this extraordinary
adventure, for Moppet was doubtless waiting breathlessly for her return;
and at the recollection Betty's nerves grew steadier, and she bethought
herself that a glass of milk would be needed by the child and that she
must take it to her. So she filled the smallest dipper, not wishing to
go back into the china pantry for fear of noise, and, with the milk in
hand, concluded it was wiser to seek the main staircase in the hall,
rather than wake Reuben by drawing his attention to the exit on the
garret stairway. And fortunate it was for Betty that she had so
determined; for as she set her foot upon the first step of the stairs,
she beheld Oliver leaning over the upper balustrade, gazing gravely
down upon her.

"Good-morning," said Betty readily, in a cheerful undertone, as she
reached his side; "you are up betimes, Oliver."

"Where have you been?" asked her brother.

"To the buttery," said Betty; "this is milk for Moppet. The chi