hem easily within a mile or two. I--I have a word I
wish to say to you--alone."

The voice was low, tremulous; the request one I saw no reason to refuse.

"Why, certainly. Sergeant, take your men down the road at an easy trot. I
will join you presently."

They went by us like shadows, leaving a cloud of dust behind. The boy
spoke a brief word to those in charge of the carriage, and it also began
to move slowly forward.

"We will go ahead," he said, suiting the action to the word. "What I wish
to say will not take long."

Within a minute, riding side by side, our horses walking rapidly, we were
out of sight of the lumping shadow of the ambulance. I glanced aside
curiously at my companion, noting the outlines of his slender, erect
figure, wondering vaguely what his message could be. Had Claire spoken to
him of me? Was he going to tell me about his sister? We must have ridden
a quarter of a mile before he broke the silence.

"Major Lawrence," he began, and I noticed the face was not turned toward
me. "I am sure you are not deceived, although you act the part well."

"I hardly understand."

"Oh, but I am sure you do. I--I could not permit you to go away despising
me."

"But, my boy, this is all mystery--"

"Do you mean to insist you do not know--have not recognized me?"

"I--what can you mean?"

"Merely that I am Claire Mortimer," and lifting the hat, the young
officer was revealed in the dim light as my lady. "Surely you knew?"

"But I did not," I insisted earnestly, recovering from my surprise, and
leaning forward to look into her face. "Why should I? General Washington
told me it was Eric who came for his father. Why should I suspect in this
darkness?"

"I--I represented myself as Eric," she stammered.

"And was it you also who rode into our lines yesterday, telling of
Clinton's whereabouts?"

"Yes," hesitatingly, her eyes lifting to my face.

"But you must listen to me, Major Lawrence; you must learn why I did so
unwomanly an act."

"First answer one question."

"Gladly."

"Is there an Eric Mortimer?"

"There is," she answered frankly; "my brother. It was for his sake I did
all this."

A moment I sat my saddle silently, our horses walking side by side
through the night, while I endeavored to grasp the meaning of her
confession. I knew that she was riding bareheaded, her face turned away.

"Go on," I said at last, "tell me the whole story."

"I will," firmly, her head uplifted. "I was temp