ands imprisoned in her own. And to Elsin: "Child! what
scenes have we dragged you through! Heaven forgive us!--for you have
learned a sorry wisdom here concerning men!"

"I have learned," she said steadily, "more than you think, madam. Will
you forgive me if I ask a word alone with Mr. Renault?"

"Not here, child. Look! Day comes creeping on us yonder in the hills.
Come home before you have your talk with Carus. You may ride with him
if you desire, but follow us."

Sir Peter turned to gather up his pistols; but Elsin laid her hand on
them, saying that I would care for everything.

"Sure, she means to have her way with us as well as with Walter
Butler," he said humorously. "Come, sweetheart, leave them to this new
wisdom Elsin found along the road somewhere between the Coq d'Or and
Wall Street. They may be wiser than they seem; they could not well be
less wise than they are."

The set smile on Elsin's lips changed nothing as Sir Peter led his
lady, all reluctant, from the coffee-room, where the sunken candles
flickered in the pallid light of morning.

From the front windows we saw the coach drive up, and Lady Coleville,
looking back in protest, enter; and after her Sir Peter, and Dr.
Carmody with his cases.

"Come to the door and make as though we meant to mount and follow," she
said quietly. "Here, take these pistols. Raise the pan and lower the
hammers. They are loaded. Thrust them somewhere--beneath your coat. Now
follow me."

I obeyed in silence. As we came out of the tavern-door Lady Coleville
nodded, and her coach moved off, passing our horses, which the hostlers
were bringing round.

I put Elsin up, then swung astride my roan, following her out into the
road--a rod or two only ere she wheeled into the honeysuckle lane,
reining in so that I came abreast of her.

"Now ride!" she said in an unsteady voice. "I know the man you have to
deal with. There is no mercy in him, I tell you, and no safety now for
you until you make the rebel lines."

"I know it," I said; "but what of you?"

"What of me?" She laughed a bitter laugh, striking her horse so that he
bounded forward down the sandy lane, I abreast of her, stride for
stride. "What of me? Why, I lied to him, that is all, Mr. Renault. _And
he knew it!_"

"Is that all?" I asked.

"No, not all. _He_ told the truth to you and to Sir Peter. And _I_ knew
it."

"In what did he tell the truth?"

"In what he said about--his mistress." Her face crimsoned, b