ou must forgive me, my dears, if I confess it beyond me to set down
here in measured words the tale I told his Lordship. A lie is a lie, be
it told in never so good a cause; a thing deplorable and not to be
glozed over or boasted of after the fact. So I beg you to let these
quibblings to which I was driven rest in oblivion, figuring to
yourselves that I used all the truth I dared, and that I strove through
it all not wholly to sink the gentleman and the man of honor in the spy.

'Twas but a bridge of glass when all was said; a bridge that carried me
safely over for the moment into my Lord's confidence, yet one which a
pebble flung by any one of a dozen hands might shiver in the dropping of
an eyelid.

"Truly, you have had a most romantic experience," said his Lordship,
when I had made an end. Then he lay back in his chair and laughed till
the stout body of him shook again. "And all about a little wench of the
provincials. Well, well; Sir Francis was always a sad dog with the
women. But all this was in the early summer, you say; where have you
been since?"

Here was a chance for more romancing, this time of a sort less
dangerous. So I drew breath and plunged again, telling how I had been
carried off by my captor-rescuers; how I had fallen into the hands of
the Indians--not all of whom, I would remind his Lordship, were friendly
to the king; and lastly how I had but lately escaped from the mountain
fastnesses back of Major Ferguson's camp at Gilbert Town. At this point
my Lord interrupted the tale-telling.

"So you know of the major and his doings? I would you had brought me
late news of him. 'Tis a week since his last courier reached us."

This was the moment for the playing of my trump card--the only one I
held. I rose, bowed, took from my pocket that other letter given me by
Colonel Davie and handed it to his Lordship. 'Twas Major Ferguson's last
report, intercepted by one of Davie's vigilant scouting parties.

"Ah!" said my Lord; and I strolled to the window whilst he read the
letter.

When I turned to front him again he was all affability; and I knew I was
safe--for the time, at least.

"The major commends you highly as a good man and a true, Captain
Ireton," he said, and truly the letter did contain a warm-hearted
commendation of "the bearer," whose name, for safety's sake, was
omitted; and not only this, but the writer desired to have his man back
again. Then my Lord added: "You are here to take your old s