panish prison."

"In prison?" Her tone suggested apprehensions in which he had no desire
to leave her.

"As a prisoner of war," he explained. "I was taken fighting with the
French--in French service, that is."

"But you're a doctor!" she cried.

"That's merely a diversion, I think. By trade I am a soldier--at least,
it's a trade I followed for ten years. It brought me no great gear,
but it served me better than medicine, which, as you may observe, has
brought me into slavery. I'm thinking it's more pleasing in the sight of
Heaven to kill men than to heal them. Sure it must be."

"But how came you to be a soldier, and to serve the French?"

"I am Irish, you see, and I studied medicine. Therefore--since it's a
perverse nation we are--.... Oh, but it's a long story, and the Colonel
will be expecting my return." She was not in that way to be defrauded
of her entertainment. If he would wait a moment they would ride back
together. She had but come to enquire of the Governor's health at her
uncle's request.

So he waited, and so they rode back together to Colonel Bishop's house.
They rode very slowly, at a walking pace, and some whom they passed
marvelled to see the doctor-slave on such apparently intimate terms with
his owner's niece. One or two may have promised themselves that they
would drop a hint to the Colonel. But the two rode oblivious of all
others in the world that morning. He was telling her the story of his
early turbulent days, and at the end of it he dwelt more fully than
hitherto upon the manner of his arrest and trial.

The tale was barely done when they drew up at the Colonel's door, and
dismounted, Peter Blood surrendering his nag to one of the negro grooms,
who informed them that the Colonel was from home at the moment.

Even then they lingered a moment, she detaining him.

"I am sorry, Mr. Blood, that I did not know before," she said, and there
was a suspicion of moisture in those clear hazel eyes. With a compelling
friendliness she held out her hand to him.

"Why, what difference could it have made?" he asked.

"Some, I think. You have been very hardly used by Fate."

"Och, now...." He paused. His keen sapphire eyes considered her steadily
a moment from under his level black brows. "It might have been worse,"
he said, with a significance which brought a tinge of colour to her
cheeks and a flutter to her eyelids.

He stooped to kiss her hand before releasing it, and she did not deny
him. T