ain, and Jennifer had spent the earlier hours of
the night abroad--to little purpose, as it chanced. 'Twas midnight or
thereabouts when he came swearing in to tell me that the Tories were out
again to harry our side of the river afresh, and to make a refugee's
begging of a bag of meal a thing of peril.

"They'll starve us out in shortest measure at this rate," he prophesied.
"They have trampled down all the standing corn for miles around, and
this morning they burned the mill. 'Tis our notice to quit, and we'd
best take it. There has been fighting to the south of us--a plenty of
it--at Rocky Mount and Hanging Rock, and elsewhere, and every man is
needed. If you are strong enough to stand the march, we'll run the
gantlet down the river in the pirogue and cut across from the lower ford
to join Major Davie or Mr. Gates."

I said I was fit enough, and would do whatever he thought best. And then
I took a step upon the forbidden ground.

"Falconnet is still at Appleby Hundred?" I said.

He nodded.

"And you will join the army at the front and leave Margery to his tender
mercies?"

His laugh was bitter; so bitter that I scarce knew it for Richard
Jennifer's.

"Mistress Margery Stair is well, and well content, as I told you once
before. She has no wish for you or me, unless it be to see us well
hanged."

"Nay, Richard; you judge her over-harshly. I fear you do not love her as
her lover should."

"Say you so? Listen: to-night I got as far as the manor house, being
fool enough to risk my neck for another sight of her. God help me, Jack!
I had it. They have scraped together all the Tory riff-raff this side of
the river--Falconnet and the others--and are holding high revel at
Appleby. Since it is still our true-blue borderland, they are scant
enough of women of their own kidney, and I saw Madge dancing like any
light o' love with every jackanapes that offered."

"In her father's house she could not well do less," I averred, cut to
the heart, as he was, and yet without his younger lover's jealousy to
make me unjust.

"Or more," he added, savagely. "'Tis as I say; she lacks nothing we can
give her, and we'd as well be off about our business."

I think he never had it in his heart to leave her in any threat of
danger. But from his point of view there was no danger threatening her
save that which she seemed willing enough to rush upon--a life of titled
misery as Lady Falconnet. I saw how he would see it; saw, too, that