The Indianapolis journal., 1903-03-16
was too fiercely mad to handy words with

| NO.
Thereat silence came and sat between
| us, and fell to loving her the more be-
| cause of ii: but when she spoke 1 always
loved her more for speaking.
| MY father has had little peace since
coming here" she said at length. He is
| old and none too well, and as for King and
| Congress, asks nothing but his right to hold
aloof. And this they will not give him.
| Remembering what Jennfer had told me
| of Gilbert Stairs trimming l smiled within.
| THAT is the way of all the world in war
| time. ma petite A partisan may suffer once
for all, but both sides hold neutral lawful
prey
Twas as the spark to tinder my word
/ the spark and in her eyes the answering
/ flash.
II tell him soi' she cried. 'I tell him al
ways that the King will have his own
| again. But still he halts and hesitates; and
| when these rebels come and Quarter on
| us
fear she must have seen my inward
| smile this time, for she broke off in the
midst and 1 made haste to forestall her
flying out at me.
"Oh, come, my dear; you should not be
| so fierce with him when you yourself have
| brought rebel to his house to nurse alive"
| She looked me fairly in the eye. You
| should be the last to remind me of my trea-
son, Monsieur john"
"Then you are free to call 1t treason, are
you, Margery?" L said
| She looked away from me again. How
| can it well be less than treason?' Then
| suddenly she turned and clasped her hands
i upon my Knee. lou must not De tOO
| upon me, Monsiuer John. I've tried to DO
| my duty as 1 saw it, and have asked no
| questions. And yet 1 know much more
| than you have told me-"
What do you know"
81 know your wound has been your safe
| ty. If you should leave this room and
house to-day you would never wear the
| buff and blue again, Captain Ireton."
You mean they would hang me for a
! spy. Will you believe me, Margery, If I
| say have not yet worn the buff and blue
OH The little exclamation was Of pure
| You are no rebel after ALP"
Was ever man so tempted since the fall
| of Adam? AS 1 have writ II down FOR you
| in measured words, was no more than
half a patriot at this time. And love has
made more traitors than its opposites or
lust or greed. In no uncertain sense was
| a man without a country, and this fair
maiden on the hassock at my feet was all
| the world to me. l saw in briefer time
than any clock hands ever measured how
much a yielding word might do for ME, and
| then / thought of Richard Jennifer and was
myself again.
NAY, little one," said; there has been
| no mistake. For their own purposes my
enemies have passed the word that l am
| here as the Baron De Kalb's paid spy. That
is no mistake It's @ lie rh cut out froT OF w1eIe N
Berne and back of that from London and
the continent, and scarcely know the bun
and blue by sight: But am Carolina born.
uIs
hanged my father So when God gives me
strength to mount and ride"
Now who is fierce.J ,y,, she cried: .,s And
band of rebels and come and take your
own again."
You know I will not / protested. so
gravely that she laughed again, though
now there were tears, from what well
spring of emotion knew not, in her eyes:
"Oh. mercy me! Have you never one lit.
tie grain of imagination, Monsieur John?
zoo
testing age" Then she sobered quickly and
added this: ''And yet L fear that this is
what my father fears"
L did not tell her that he might have
feared ii once with reason or that now the
houseless dog she petted should have life
of me though mine enemy should SICK him
on But did say her father had no pres
ent cause to dread me.
HE thinks he has. And surely there is
cause enough" she added.
/ smiled, and, loving her the more for her
fairness, must smile again.
NAY, you have changed all that, dear
lady. Truly. 1 did at first fly out at him
and all concerned for what has made me
poor pensioner In my fathers house-or
rather in the house that was my fathers.
But that was while the hurt was new L
have been a soldier OF fortune too long to
think overmuch of the loss of Appleby
Hundred. Twas my. fathers. certainly,
but twas never mine.
"And yet-and yet II should be yours.
John Ireton." She said ii bravely, with up
49,
ran might read.
Ills good and true of you to say so. lit
tie one, but there be two sides to that as
well. So my fathers acres come at last to
you and Richard Jennifer 1 shall be we'll
content, do assure you. Margery."
She sprang UP from her low seat and
time she turned and faced me once again.
and the warm blood was in cheek and neck.
and there was soft light in her eyes to
make them shine like stars.
"Then you would have me marry Richard
Jennifer?'' she asked.
Twas but a little word that honor bade
me say. and yet it choked me and L could
"Dick would have you, Margery, and
Dick is my dear friend-as am his"
But your she queried. Were you my
friend as we'll is this you would have t?''
My look went past her through the lead
trimmed window panes TO the great oaks
and hickories on the lawn, to these and TO
the white road winding in and out among
them While yet / sought for words in
which to give her unreservedly to my dear
lad two horsemen trotted into view. One
of them was a kings man, the other a
civilian in sober black. The redcoat rode
as English troopers do, with a firm seat,
as if the man were master of his mount:
but the smaller man in black seemed little
to the manner born, and daylight shuttled
in and out beneath him, keeping time to
the jog trot of his beast.
| thought il passing strange that with all
good will to answer her. these coming
horsemen seemed to hold me silent. And
indeed, / did not speak until they came so
near that could make them out
II am your friend. Margery mine; as good
a friend as you will let me be. And as be-
tween Richard Jennifer and another /
should be a sorry friend TO Dick did 1
not
She heard the clink of horseshoes on the
gravel and turned. signing TO me for silence
while she looked below. The window over
hung the entrance on that side, and
through the opened air easement l heard
some babblement of voices, though not the
words.
"I must go down." she said "'Tis COM
pany come and my father is away.
She passed behind my chair. and hearing
her hand upon the latch had thought her
gone-gone down to welcome my enemy
and his riding mate, the factor. But while
/ was cursing my unready tongue and
penting that / had not given her some
small word of warning she spoke again.
You say Richard Jennifer or another
What know you of any other, Monsieur
John?"
NAY, 1 know nothing save what you
have told me; and from that / have been
hoping there was no other.
but il 1 say there may be?'
My heart went sick at that. True, / had
thought TO give her generously TO Dick
whose right was paramount. but TO an
.Margery, come hither where may see
YOU" And when she stood before me like
hidden child: Tell me, little comrade
who is that other?
and from standing sweet and pensive she
fell a-laughing.
what impudencer she cried. Ma fol,
You should borrow Pere Matthews cassock
and breviary, then. mayhap. I might con-
fess to you. But not before"