The Loyalist. James Francis Barrett

adversary. Only for a moment, however; for he immediately felt himself seized from behind by the shoulders and dragged backwards from his man and completely overpowered.

      The man who was known as Anderson took charge of the Colonel, helping him to his feet, and without further words led him to one side of the room, talking softly but deliberately to him as he did so.

      A moment later they had passed through the door and vanished down the street in the direction of the Square.

CHAPTER VI

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I

       Table of Contents

      The morrow was one of those rare days when all nature seems to invite one to go forth and enjoy the good things within her keeping. The sunrise was menacing; unless the wind shifted before noon it would be uncomfortably warm. Still, the air was bracing and fragrant with the soft perfume distilled by the pines.

      Stephen felt in tune with nature as he made his early morning toilet. He gazed the while into the garden from his widely opened window, and responded instinctively to the call of the countryside. The disagreeable episode of the preceding day had left unpleasant recollections in his mind which disconcerted him not a little during his waking hours, the time when the stream of consciousness begins to flow with an unrestrained rapidity, starting with the more impressive memories of the night before. He did not repent his action; he might have repeated the performance under similar circumstances, yet he chided himself for his lack of reserve and composure and his great want of respect to a superior officer.

      He was early mounted and on his way, striking off in the direction of the Germantown Road. He had left word with his landlady of his intended destination, with the added remark that he would be back in a short time, a couple of hours at the most, and that he would attend to the business of the day upon his return. What that might amount to he had no idea at all, being preoccupied entirely with what he had to do in the immediate present, for he made it a point never to permit the more serious affairs of life to intrude upon his moments of relaxation.

      He was a pleasant figure to look upon; smooth-faced and athletic, well mounted and dressed with great preciseness. On his well shaped hands he wore leathern gauntlets; he was in his uniform of buff and blue; beneath his coat he had his steel-buckled belt with his holster and pistol in it; he wore his cocked hat with a buff cockade affixed, the insignia of his rank in the service.

      The road lay in the direction of Marjorie's house. Perhaps he chose to ride along this way in order that he might be obliged to pass her door, and then again, perhaps, that was but of secondary import. This was no time for analysis, and so he refused to study his motives. He did know that he had not seen her for a long time, the longest time it seemed, and that he had had no word from her since their last meeting, save the intelligence received from her father yesterday in response to his repeated inquiries concerning her welfare and that of her mother.

      "Let us turn up here, Dolly, old girl." He leaned forward a little to pat the mare's neck affectionately as he spoke; while at the same time he pulled the right rein slightly, turning her head in the direction indicated. "And, if we are fortunate, we shall catch a glimpse of her."

      Dolly raised her ears very erect and opened full her nostrils as if to catch some possible scent of her, of whom he spoke. She pierced the distance with her eyes, but saw no one and so settled herself into an easy canter, for she knew it to be more to her rider's advantage to proceed at a slowing pace until they had passed the house in question.

      "You are an intelligent old girl, Dolly, but I must not let you too far into the secrets of my mind. Still, you have shared my delights and woes alike and have been my one faithful friend. Why should I not tell you?"

      And yet they had been friends for no great length of time. It was at Valley Forge they had met, shortly after Stephen's appointment to General Washington's staff. As an aide he was required to be mounted and it was by a piece of good fortune that he had been allowed to choose from several the chestnut mare that now bore him. He had given her the best of care and affection and she reciprocated in as intelligent a manner as she knew how.

      "You have served well, but I feel that there is much greater work before us, much greater than our quest of the present."

      They were nearing the house. For some reason or other, Dolly whinnied as he spoke, probably in acquiescence to his thought, probably in recognition of the presence of her rival. She might have seen, had she cared to turn her head, a trim, lithe form passing to the rear of the house. Stephen took pains to see her, however, and, as she turned her head, doffed his hat in salute. The next moment Dolly felt the reins tighten, and, whether she desired it or not, found her head turned in that direction. Her rider was soon dismounted and was leading her to the side of the road.

      "You are early astir, Mistress Marjorie. I had anticipated no such pleasure this morning."

      "It is indeed mutual," replied Marjorie, smiling as she offered him her hand. "How came you so early? No new turn of events, I hope!"

      "Not in the least. I desired a few hours in the saddle before the heat of the day set in, and my guardian angel must have directed me along this path."

      Dolly raised both her ears and turned towards him, while she noisily brought her hoof down upon the sod.

      "What a rascal!" she thought to herself.

      The girl dropped her eyes demurely and then asked hurriedly:

      "There are no new developments?"

      "None that I know of."

      "Nothing came of the trouble at the Inn?"

      "Then you know?"

      "All. Father told me."

      "He should not have told you."

      "It was my doing. I gave him no peace until I had learned all."

      Dolly grew weary of this pleasantry and wandered away to gladden her lips on the choice morsels of the tender grass.

      "I deeply regret my indiscretion, though it was for his sake."

      "You mean——?"

      "His Excellency."

      "I might have done likewise, were I able. Colonel Forrest is most disagreeable."

      "He was not wholly culpable and so I forgave his insulting remarks against us, but I forgot myself entirely when General Washington's name was besmirched."

      "I fear further trouble," she sighed.

      "From him?"

      She nodded her head.

      "Nonsense! There will be naught said about the whole affair and it will end where it began. Forrest is no fool."

      "I have other news for you, Captain," announced Marjorie, her eyes beaming at the prospect.

      "And how long have you been preserving it for me?" asked Stephen.

      "But a few days."

      "And you made no attempt to see me?"

      "Had I not met you now, I would have done so this day," answered Marjorie.

      "You would have written?"

      "Perhaps."

      "It is my forfeiture to your reserve."

      "And made gallantly."

      "Come now! What had you to tell?"

      "This. Peggy desires the honor of your company. You will receive the invitation in a day or two. Just an informal affair, yet I sensed the possibility of your pleasure."

      "You