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"Yes," she whispered, "I know. You have been so good."
"Good! I loved you, dear. From the moment I lifted you out of the way of that mob in Philadelphia, I have loved you. I did not understand much that occurred, but I have never doubted you. Now I realize the cause of your masquerade and know you were justified. I can bring you good news--Eric is not a traitor, but was a prisoner, captured by f.a.gin, and held at Grant's request. We found him bound and under guard out yonder, as we approached the house."
"And he is here now?"
"Yes; he was hurt in the fight, and is still unconscious, but will live."
"His reputation--"
"Is safe. Was.h.i.+ngton believes he brought him the news of Clinton's route of march, and will never know otherwise."
She arose to her feet, standing straight and slender before me, the flickering light of the candle on her face.
"Major Lawrence," she began, "I wish to get out of here--it seems like a grave to me,--but I must speak first. Oh, I am so glad I have accomplished what I endeavored to do for my brother. Captain Grant tried to make me believe him a deserter, but I would not. When he failed to come back to me as he had promised, I could hardly determine what my duty was. I knew his plans, his orders, and the thought came that I should carry these out myself. We looked sufficiently alike so that this could be done with little danger of discovery. He had uniforms concealed here, and I felt driven to impersonate him. I do not insist that I did right; I do not know--only it seemed right to me. Then--then," her voice faltered, "I met you, again and again, and I--I began to doubt myself. I had no one to confide in, no one to advise me. I was simply compelled to go ahead, and keep my own secret. The only ones I knew I could absolutely trust were our old house servants."
"You doubted me even?"
"Yes, at first, but you must not blame me. We met strangely; you were a gentleman and an officer; I felt sure of this, and was tempted oftentimes to tell you my story. But before I dared do so, you--you spoke of other things and--and then I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" and I caught her hand in mine. "That a knowledge of what you were attempting to accomplish would turn me against you?"
Her eyes fell, shaded by the long lashes.
"Yes; once, do you remember I almost began a confession, when you spoke of your old-fas.h.i.+oned mother, and her conception of womanhood. How could I tell you then that I had dressed as a man, and played the part of a spy? I--I thought you might despise me, and--and I wished so to retain your respect. It was an accident we were with Delavan that night. We were endeavoring to waylay a courier, and rode suddenly into his party. I had to invent a tale on the spur of the moment. Major Lawrence, now that you know all, tell me the one thing I must know before we join the others--would you wish your own sister to do as I have done?"
"Not to pa.s.s through the dangers, surely," I returned eagerly, "but I should rejoice at her loyalty, and be proud of her. Claire, Claire, there has never been in my heart aught but love for you. As Lady of the Blended Rose, as daughter of a Colonel of Queen's Rangers, even in the disguise of a Dragoon, I have never questioned the depth of your womanhood. Once I guessed you a British spy, yet ceased not to love you. Am I to have my reward? You know little of me, as you say, but as an officer and a gentleman, I ask you to repeat again what you whispered to me once out yonder under the stars--do you remember, dear?"
"It was only to compel you to leave me."
"And now it is an invitation to remain."
Her eyes were uplifted to mine. Slowly I drew her toward me, her arms were upon my shoulders, and our lips met.
"I love you," she said slowly. "Yes, dear, I love you."
Above us, his head thrust through the opening, Farrell called:
"Have you found her, Major? Shall I come down?"
"It's not necessary."
"The Colonel is half crazy, and the boy is getting back his senses."
We went up together, I bearing the candle in one hand, and helping her along the circular stairs with the other. In the upper hall I glanced below, but the bodies of the dead had been removed. Farrell stood bareheaded, a great figure on his short legs.
"This has been a fine night's work," he said steadily, "the last of f.a.gin's gang."
"Dead?"
"Ay, and Grant with him--begging your pardon, mistress."
Her eyes glanced from his face into mine, and my hand-clasp tightened. It was thus we went in together, and stood beside the Colonel's bed.
THE END
By MR. PARRISH
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