rd her
from the hall; "not while I can hold him at my side," and with somewhat
paler face, but with calm demeanor she moved away, obedient to
Geoffrey's request that she should go to supper.

Kitty Cruger's evening, unlike Betty's, had been full of dangerous
excitement. Arriving at the ball with her mother, she had been dancing
with her usual spirit, keeping, however, anxious watch for Oliver. But
she perceived no one whom she could possibly imagine was he, even in
disguise, and therefore it was with almost a shock of dismay that she
found herself stopped, as she was passing the supper-room door, by her
hostess, who "craved the favor of presenting a gentleman just arrived
from Albany, who knew her family there." Kitty dropped her most formal
courtesy and raised her eyes to the face of the stranger. Verily, Oliver
possessed positive genius for disguises, and troubled as she was Kitty
could not restrain a smile as she recognized in the rubicund
countenance and somewhat portly form of the gentleman bowing before her
an admirable caricature of no less a person than her respected uncle,
Cornelius Lansing, an antiquated Albany beau.

Yorke, with Betty, was just inside the door as the pair entered, and as
Kitty perceived them she paused for a moment to say good-evening.

"Where have you been? I was looking for you. Permit me to present
Mynheer Gansevoort, of Albany. Mistress Betty Wolcott and Captain Yorke.
As for you, sir,"--to Yorke, with a playful tap of her fan to engage his
attention,--"you have not yet claimed my hand for a dance. Pray, what
excuse can you devise for such neglect?"

Betty seized her opportunity. She must warn Oliver at all hazards. "Have
you lately arrived?" she said, fixing her eyes on him; then, in so low a
whisper that it barely reached him by motion of her lips, "You are
watched; be careful!"

"I am somewhat deaf," returned Oliver, with great readiness, bending his
ear toward her. "By whom?"--with equal caution.

"Colonel Tarleton. Escape as speedily as you can."

"Did you speak?" said Geoffrey, turning suddenly, to Betty's dismay, and
casting a penetrating glance at Oliver, which he returned with the
utmost calmness.

"This gentleman is somewhat deaf, I find," answered Betty. "It is a sad
affliction, sir; has it troubled you long?"

"Some years. May I offer Captain Yorke a pinch of snuff?" and the
pretended Mynheer Gansevoort produced a gold snuff-box from his
waistcoat pocket, which he c