rooping, viewed her beneath his brows, then, crossing to the
table leaned there with head averted, and Lord Cleeve, having opened
his eyes to their widest, opened his mouth also--but said not a word
and dropped a button from suddenly relaxed fingers; as for the Sergeant
he unclenched his fists, breathed a deep sigh of thankfulness and
murmured "Zounds!"

"My Lord Cleeve," said she at last, "when Mr. Dalroyd has taken his
departure, I will beg you to escort me to my house."

Lord Cleeve bowed and sheathed his sword looking foolish the while.

"A--a happiness!" he stammered.

"Mr. Dalroyd," said my lady very proudly for all her torn and muddy
gown, "I ask you to prove your manhood by setting by that sword and
leaving the house--now! You will find one of your coach horses below
the terrace. Your quicker way will be by the window yonder."

Mr. Dalroyd hesitated, his pale cheeks flushed suddenly, his sleepy
eyes opened wide, then he smiled and bowing, reached for his coat and
with the Colonel's assistance got into it, and he slipped on his shoes.
Then, heedless of the others, he caught my lady's hand to his lips and
bowing, kissed it.

"Ah, Betty," said he, "you are worth the winning--aye, upon my soul you
are!"

"Take your pistol, sir!" He took it, turned it over and laughed gently.

"My dear lady," said he, "after your exploits this night I wouldn't
forego you for any woman that ever tempted man. Your time shall be my
time and my time is--soon, Betty--ah, soon!" And bowing again, he
crossed to the open window, stepped out into the dark and was gone.
For a moment none moved, then the Sergeant crossed the room and closed
the shattered casement.

"Major d'Arcy," said my lady, and now there was a troubled quiver in
the clear voice, "upon a night not long ago you made me a promise--nay,
swore me an oath. Do you remember?" The Major was silent. "Sir," she
continued, her voice growing more troubled, "you did not give me that
oath easily and now--O is it thus you keep all your promises?" The
Major made no answer, nor did he stir, nor even lift his head.

"John," she took a quick step toward the rigid figure. "O Jack--you
are not hurt----"

"Thank you--I am--very well!" he answered, still without turning, and
gripping the sword he still held in rigid fingers. After this there
seemed a long silence filled with the rumble of wind in the wide
chimney. Then my lady stirred, sighed, and stretched out her hand to