e so."

The youth was laughing now, and Peggy, mightily relieved to find that
such harsh treatment was not to be accorded him, laughed also. Not so
Sally. She stood regarding him with eyes in which slowly grew an
expression of pain and scorn.

"Now you aren't going to hold it against me, are you, Miss Sally?" he
pleaded.

"When I asked thee if the bonds hurt, thee said, 'Pretty bad,'" stated
Sally, her manner full of accusation.

"I did," he admitted.

"It was not true," she cried. "And thee is to die! To die, and yet
thee could stoop to trickery! Oh, how could thee do it? Thou art under
the shadow of death. I would rather a thousand times that thee would
have remained the obstinate Englishman that I deemed thee than to know
that thee could do this."

With that she flung up her head, and without another glance in his
direction went swiftly out of the room.

CHAPTER XXIV

"THEE MAY TELL HIM AT THE LAST"

"A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate;
I've seen the last look of her heavenly eyes,--
I've heard the last sound of her blessed voice,--
I've seen her fair form from my sight depart!
My doom is closed."

--_Count Basil._

Clifford started as Sally uttered the word, "trickery," and a deep
flush dyed his face. He threw out his hands in a protesting gesture,
and opened his lips to speak, but she was gone before he could say a
word. He turned toward Peggy appealingly.

"Will you listen, my cousin?" he queried. "Or are you also shocked?"

"Nay, Clifford; I believe that thee intended naught but to have a
little sport," she replied.

"That's just it," he cried eagerly. "Everything hath been so
depressing the last few days that a little diversion was welcome. When
Major Gordon came in, saying that you wished to see me, and that a
friend was with you who feared to come in unless I was bound, I knew
at once it was Miss Sally. When the major suggested that 'twould never
do for the young lady to find me unbound, the idea appealed to me
immediately. It promised some brightness, a little fun which is all my
excuse, Peggy. I intended naught else. I thought you both would regard
it as a great joke. I see now that I should not have done it. It was
caddish."

"I think Sally felt the worst anent thy saying that the cords hurt
pretty bad," Peggy told him. "It seemed like an untruth to her."

"'Fore George, Peggy!" cried the youth earnestly, "if she could but
know the trouble I