er, with possibly a
thought of a fair maid's eyes, threw myself before the door with drawn
sword.

"No man passes through this door," I cried, "unless he passes over
me."

The crowd drew back in surprise.

"Since when," I shouted, for they hesitated, "have Maryland gentlemen
learned to fight in mobs? If any one has an insult to resent, let him
fight as becomes a gentleman, man to man."

"Stand aside," shouted Rodolph, who was now before me, "and let me get
at the traitor."

"Put up your swords, gentlemen." I found I had a new ally in a tall,
dignified gentleman, who took his place beside me, a Mr. Wilmer of the
White House in Kent.

"The lad is right," he said; "and you, Rodolph, I should think, would
have had enough of Charles Gordon of the Braes."

At this there was a laugh, which at the time I did not understand; but
the company good-naturedly put back their swords and resumed their
places at the table, all except Rodolph, who slipped away from the
room.

That night, as I lay upon my bed, dreaming, boylike, of the fair eyes
of the Tory maid, and hoping that the part I had played in the matter
of the toast might come to her ears and cause her to give me a smile
at our next meeting, I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the
passageway.

"There is great danger," said a voice, which I recognised as the
landlord's, as they were passing by my door. "Rodolph is stirring up
the crowd, and though you might brave the mob, Mistress Jean--" and
then the voices died away.

"The mob" and "Mistress Jean." Clearly something must be afoot.
Springing from my bed, I swore to myself, that, if anything happened
to the Tory maid, I would make Phil Rodolph feel the edge of my sword.
Hastily throwing on my clothes, I went to the window and looked out.
The night was dark, the sky being full of drifting clouds, through
which the moon faintly struggled; everything lay quiet and still in
the village and the camp. Steps were heard upon the porch below, and
then a horse was brought around from the stables. A moment later a
horseman mounted, and I saw a slender figure on the pillion behind
him.

"Keep to the south road," said a voice, "they have only one sentry
there."

I did not wait to hear more, but slipped downstairs and out of a side
door, and the next moment I was running softly through the camp to the
outpost on the south road, for one of my own men was stationed there,
and I knew that without orders or the countersi