d not wake you, I took the letter from your pocket and carried it
to Inspector Jules last night,--or, rather, Sergeant Gellatly carried
them. I wore his cap and cloak and passed for him."

"You carried that letter to Inspector Jules last night, Jen"? said the
soldier, all his heart in his voice.

Jen saw her father blanch, his mouth open blankly, and his lips refuse
to utter the words on them. For the first time she comprehended some
danger to him, to herself--to Val!

"Father, father," she said,--"what is it?"

Pierre shrugged his shoulders and rejoined: "Eh, the devil! Such
mistakes of women. They are fools--all." The old man put out a shaking
hand and caught his daughter's arm. His look was of mingled wonder and
despair, as he said, in a gasping whisper, "You carried that letter to
Archangel's Rise?"

"Yes," she answered, faltering now; "Sergeant Tom had said how important
it was, you remember. That it was his duty to take it to Inspector
Jules, and be back within forty-eight hours. He fell asleep. I could not
wake him. I thought, what if he were my brother--our Val. So, when you
and Pretty Pierre went to bed, I put on Val's clothes, took Sergeant
Tom's cloak and hat, carried the orders to Jules, and was back here by
six o'clock this morning."

Sergeant Tom's eyes told his tale of gratitude. He made a step towards
her; but the old man, with a strange ferocity, motioned him back,
saying,

"Go away from this house. Go quick. Go now, I tell you, or by
God,--I'll--"

Here Pretty Pierre touched his arm.

Sergeant Tom drew back, not because he feared but as if to get a
mental perspective of the situation. Galbraith again said to his
daughter,--"Jen, you carried them papers? You! for him--for the Law!"
Then he turned from her, and with hand clenched and teeth set spoke to
the soldier: "Haven't you heard enough? Curse you, why don't you go?"

Sergeant Tom replied coolly: "Not so fast, Galbraith. There's some
mystery in all this. There's my sleep to be accounted for yet. You had
some reason, some"--he caught the eyes of Pierre. He paused. A light
began to dawn on his mind, and he looked at Jen, who stood rigidly pale,
her eyes fixed fearfully, anxiously, upon him. She too was beginning to
frame in her mind a possible horror; the thing that had so changed her
father, the cause for drugging the soldier. There was a silence in which
Pierre first, and then all, detected the sound of horses' hoofs. Pierre
went to the