hem
across, and threw the pieces about the hall, as one tosses corn about
a chicken-yard.

Major Colden had been having a most uncomfortable five minutes. As a
Tory officer, he was in close peril of being made prisoner by this
Continental captain and the latter's troop outside, and this peril was
none the less since he had so adversely criticised Peyton in the talk
which had led to the duel in Bayard's woods. He had not put himself
on friendly terms with Peyton after that affair. There was still no
reason for any other feeling towards him, on Peyton's part, than
resentment. Now Jack Colden had no relish for imprisonment at the
hands of the despised rebels. Moreover, he had no wish that Elizabeth
should learn of his former defeat by Peyton. He had kept the meeting
in Bayard's woods a secret, thanks to Peyton's having quitted New York
immediately after it, and to the relation of dependence in which the
two only witnesses stood to him. Thus it was that he had remained well
out of view during Elizabeth's sharp interview with Peyton, being
unwilling alike to be known as a Tory officer, and to be recognized by
Peyton. His civilian's cloak hid his uniform and weapons; the dimness
of the candle-light screened his face.

But matters had reached a point where he could not, without appearing
a coward, refrain longer from taking a hand. He stepped forward from
the dark remoteness.

"Sir," said he to Peyton, politely, "I know the custom of war. But
since a horse must be taken, you will find one of mine in the stable.
Will you not take it instead of this lady's?"

Peyton had been scrutinizing Colden's features.

"Mr. Colden, if I remember," he said, when the major had finished.

"You remember right," said Colden, with a bow, concealing behind a not
too well assumed quietude what inward tremors the situation caused
him.

"And you are doubtless now an officer in some Tory corps?" said
Peyton, quickly.

"No, sir, I am neutral," replied Colden, rather huskily, with an
instant's glance of warning at Elizabeth.

"Gad!" said Peyton, with a smile, still closely surveying the major.
"From your sentiments the time I met you in New York in '75, I should
have thought you'd take up arms for the King."

"That was before the Declaration of Independence," said Colden, in a
tone scarcely more than audible. "I have modified my opinions."

"They were strong enough then," Peyton went on. "You remember how you
upheld them with a rapier in