ak mantling his
shoulders and knees. When he recognized me he rose and came to my side.

"Well, Ormond," he said, quietly, "it's a comfort to see you. Leave your
horses with Elerson. Who is that with you--oh, Jack Mount? These are the
riflemen, Elerson and Murphy--Morgan's men, you know."

The two riflemen saluted me with easy ceremony and sauntered over to
where Mount was standing at our horses' heads.

"Hello, Catamount Jack," said Elerson, humorously. "Where 'd ye steal
the squaw-buckskins? Look at the macaroni, Tim--all yellow and
purple fringe!"

Mount surveyed the riflemen in their suits of brown holland and belted
rifle-frocks.

"Dave Elerson, you look like a Quakeress in a Dutch jerkin," he
observed.

"'Tis the nate turrn to yere leg he grudges ye," said Murphy to Elerson.
"Wisha, Dave, ye've the legs av a beau!"

"Bow-legs, Dave," commented Mount. "It's not your fault, lad. I've seen
'em run from the Iroquois as fast as Tim's--"

The bantering reply of the big Irishman was lost to me as Sir George led
me out of earshot, one arm linked in mine.

I told him briefly of my mission, of my new rank in the army. He
congratulated me warmly, and asked, in his pleasant way, for news of the
manor, yet did not name Dorothy, which surprised me to the verge of
resentment. Twice I spoke of her, and he replied courteously, yet seemed
nothing eager to learn of her beyond what I volunteered.

And at last I said: "Sir George, may I not claim a kinsman's privilege
to wish you joy in your great happiness?"

"What happiness?" he asked, blankly; then, in slight confusion, added:
"You speak of my betrothal to your cousin Dorothy. I am stupid beyond
pardon, Ormond; I thank you for your kind wishes.... I suppose Sir Lupus
told you," he added, vaguely.

"My cousin Dorothy told me," I said.

"Ah! Yes--yes, indeed. But it is all in the future yet, Ormond." He
moved on, switching the long weeds with a stick he had found. "All in
the future," he murmured, absently--"in fact, quite remote, Ormond....
By-the-way, you know why you were to meet me?"

"No, I don't," I replied, coldly.

"Then I'll tell you. The General is trying to head off Walter Butler and
arrest him. Murphy and Elerson have just heard that Walter Butler's
mother and sister, and a young lady, Magdalen Brant--you met her at
Varicks'--are staying quietly at the house of a Tory named Beacraft. We
must strive to catch him there; and, failing that, we must watch
M