inian could be.

"They were expatriates for the Pretender's sake, many of them. Mistress
Flora's husband was one of the prisoners we took. But, as I was saying,
they were Tories to a man, and they fought wickedly. When it was over,
the prisoners would have fared hardly but for a woman. In the thick of
the fight, Mistress Mary Slocumb, of Dobbs, whose husband was with us,
came storming down upon the field, having rode a-gallop some forty-odd
miles because she dreamed her goodman was killed. She begged for the
prisoners, and so Caswell hanged only those who were blood guilty--these
and the house burners. A raw-boned piper named M'Gillicuddy fell to my
lot, and he is now my majordomo at Jennifer House; as honest a fellow as
ever skirled a pibroch."

"That was like you," I said; "to make a friend and retainer out of your
prisoner. And so this Highland piper has been your fencing master, has
he?"

"'Twas he taught me what little I know of the claymore play; and this
stout old blade is his. 'Tis as good as a woodman's ax when you have the
knack of swinging it."

"Truly," said I. "Also, you seemed to have the knack, and the strength
as well, in spite of the crippled arm you were carrying in a sling the
night before when they haled you into Colonel Tarleton's court at
Appleby."

"A little ruse of war," he said, laughing and making a fist to show me
his arm was strong and sound again. "'Twas M'Gillicuddy put me up to it,
saying they would be like to deal the gentler with a wounded man. But
how came you to know?"

Here was another chance to tell him what he should be told, but the
words would not say themselves.

"I stood within arm's reach of you that night," said I; and from that I
hastened swiftly through the story of my trial as a spy and what it came
to in the morning, and never mentioned Margery's part in it at all.

"You have a bitter enemy in Frank Falconnet," was his comment, when I
had made an end of this recounting of my adventures. "He knows you are
in hiding hereabouts, and has been scouring the neighborhood well for
you--or, more belike, for both of us."

"How do you know this?" I asked.

"I have both seen and heard. This den of ours opens on the river's edge,
and, two days since, his Indians came within an ace of nabbing me. 'Twas
just at dusk, and I made out to dodge them by doubling past in the
canoe."

"But you say you have heard, as well?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Don't ask me, Jack."

I said I h