, I was in a wicked tertian of
the mind whose chill was of despair, and whose fever was a hot desire
to look once more into the eyes of my dear lady before the wicket gate
should open for me.

'Twas this desire that finally drew me to her--the desire and another
thing which shall have mention in its place. The new year was now come,
and the Southern Army, as yet too weak to cope with the enemy, was cut
into two wings of observation; one under General Greene himself at
Cheraw Hill, the other and lesser in the knoll forests of the Broad with
Daniel Morgan for its chief; both watching hawk-like the down-sitting of
my Lord Cornwallis, who seemed to have taken root at Winnsborough.

As you will know, Washington's light-horse was with Morgan; and we ate,
drank and well-nigh slept in the saddle. But for all our scoutings and
outridings, and all Dan Morgan's hearty cursings at the ill success of
them, we could come by no sure inkling of Lord Cornwallis's designs. As
I have said, the British commander seemed to have taken root and was now
waiting to sprout and grow.

It was at this lack-knowledge crisis that I volunteered to go to the
British camp at Winnsborough in my old quality of spy; did this and had
my leave and orders before Dick learned of it.

Left to my own devices, I fear I should have slipped away without
telling Jennifer. But, as so many times before, fate intervened to drive
me where I had not meant to go. On the morning set for my departure I
woke to find a letter pinned to the ground beside me with an Indian
scalping-knife thrust through it.

Dick was sitting by the newly-kindled fire, nursing his knees and most
palpably waiting for me to wake and find my missive.

"What is it?" I asked, eying the ominous thing distrustfully.

"'Tis a letter, as you see. Uncanoola left it." Then, most surlily:
"'Tis from Madge, and to you. There is your name on the back of it."

At this I must needs read the letter, with the lad looking on as if he
would eat me. 'Twas dated at Winnsborough, and was brief and to the
point.

_Monsieur:

"When last we met you said the Church might undo what the Church had
done. I have spoken to the good Pere Matthieu, and he has consented
to write to the Holy Father at Rome. But it is necessary that he
should have your declaration. Since the matter is of your own
seeking, mayhap you can devise a way to communicate with Pere
Matthieu, who is at present with us