he paused, and in the pause it flashed upon me how she had wronged my
dear lad; how she had thought he would make brazen love to her knowing
she was the wife of another. I thanked God in my heart that I had been
able to right him thus far.

After a time she said: "Why did you make me marry you, Monsieur John?
Oh, I have racked my brain so for the answer to that question. I know
you said it was to save my honor. But surely we have paid a heavier
penalty than any that could have been laid upon me had you left me as I
was."

"I was but a short-sighted fool, and no prophet," I rejoined, striving
hard to keep the bitterness of soul out of my words. "At the moment it
seemed the only way out of the pit of doubt into which my word to
Colonel Tarleton had plunged you. But there was another motive. You saw
the paper I signed that night, with Lieutenant Tybee and your father's
factor for the witnesses?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what it was?"

"No."

"'Twas the last will and testament of one John Ireton, gentleman, in
which he bequeathed to Margery, his wife, his estate of Appleby
Hundred."

"Appleby Hundred?" she echoed. "But my father--"

"Your father holds but a confiscator's title, and it, with many others,
has been voided by the Congress of North Carolina. Richard Jennifer is
my dear friend, and you--"

"I begin to understand--a little," she said, and now her voice was low
and she would not look at me. Then, in the same low tone: "But now--now
you would be free again?"

"How can you ask? As matters stand, I have marred your life and Dick's
most hopelessly. Do you wonder that I have been reckless of the hangman?
that I care no jot for my interfering life at this moment, save as the
taking of it may involve you and Richard?"

"No, surely," she said, still speaking softly. And now she gave me her
eyes to look into, and the hardness was all melted out of them. "Did you
come here, under the shadow of the gallows, to tell me this, Monsieur
John?"

"There shall be no more half-confidences between us, dear lady. I had my
leave of General Morgan on the score of our need for better information
of Lord Cornwallis's designs; but I should have come in any
case--wanting the leave, my commission as a spy, or any other excuse."

"To tell me this?"

"To do the bidding of your letter, and to say that whilst I live I shall
be shamed for the bitter words I gave you when I was sick."

"I mind them not; I had forgotten them," she