"I owe you that, do I not, wearing your colors?"

I could not perceive the expression of her face, but the tone of her
voice was not altogether encouraging.

"They were but expressive of my best wishes; of course I wished you to
succeed."

"I wonder--will you continue your good wishes after hearing my story?"

"What do you mean? You have not killed any one?"

"No; but I have hurt one who seems to have some claim upon you."

She drew in her breath quickly, clasping her hands.

"Who?--tell me! Can you mean Captain Le Gaire?"

"I regret to say 'yes'; this was his horse. Now don't blame me until you
hear the whole story. I will tell it all in very few words, and
then go."

"But--but you are sure he is not seriously hurt?"

"He may have a rib or collar-bone broken, and is still unconscious;
nothing that will keep him out of mischief long. I wanted to tell you
all about the affair myself--I don't trust Le Gaire."

"Why say that to me?"

"Because I must. If I understand the man the very first thing he will do
will be to poison your mind against me--"

"He? Why?"

"Miss Hardy," I said soberly, "what use is there for us to play at
cross-purposes? You realize that Captain Le Gaire suspects that you have
an interest in me, that you have helped in my escape. He doesn't like me
any the better for that. Men will do strange things when they are in
love--such men as Le Gaire. Do you suppose I intend permitting him to
thus influence you against me, when I am where I cannot defend myself?"

"But he would never do that; I am sure, he never would."

"Possibly not, but I prefer you should have my version to compare with
what he may say. We have met strangely, in a manner which could only
happen in time of war, and one day and two nights of adventure together
have already made us better acquainted than would a year of ordinary
social intercourse. I value your good wishes, and feel more gratitude
than words can express. I am not going away leaving you to think me
unworthy. I will tell you this exactly as it occurred, and you are to
believe me, no matter what is said later."

My earnestness made an impression and as I paused her lips parted.

"Yes--I am going to believe you."

"I felt sure you would. Now listen, for I must be away, and Le Gaire
attended to."

I told it simply, clearly, making no attempt except to bring out the
important facts, realizing that her own imagination would supply the
details. She clung to