on a victim. It shows want of
humanity."

"I am listening to you, Miss Harriet," he said patiently, "because you
are grieved and anguished over the affair. I know that you are much
overwrought. Therefore will I explain to you that by all the usages of
war, and upon the principle of retaliation I should have been
justified in executing an officer of equal rank with Captain Johnson
immediately upon receiving proofs of his death, and then informing the
British commander of what I had done."

"You are so stern," she cried with growing excitement. "So stern! So
unfeeling!"

"Nay," he protested, and there was compassion in his tone. "Not
unfeeling. Although duty calls me to make this decisive determination
in the matter humanity prompts me to drop a tear for the unfortunate
offering. I most devoutly wish that something might be done to save
his life."

"You do?" she cried eagerly. "Why, sir, 'tis easily done. A scratch of
the pen is all that is necessary. Oh, 'tis a great thing to have such
power! See, here are ink-horn, powder and paper! What doth hinder you
from writing an order for his release?"

She stepped quickly to the table as she spoke, and picking up a quill
held it appealingly toward him. His eyes softened.

"Stay!" he said. "I do feel just that way, Miss Harriet, but there is
a duty that must be performed toward our people. There are many
American prisoners held by the enemy. Among them some as young, as
manly, as lovable as your brother. If the matter be suffered to go by
without retaliation what assurance have we that they will not be as
lawlessly dealt with as Captain Johnson?"

"Oh!" she said looking at him miserably. "But Clifford hath been
guilty of naught. Were he a spy, an informer, a deserter, I would not
ask you to abate one jot or tittle of his fate. I might in such case
try to rescue him by trickery, by deceit, by any means that would
save his life, but I would not question the justice of his doom. But
he is not a spy, not an informer, not a deserter----"

[Illustration: "I KNEEL TO YOU, SIR."]

"Nor was Captain Johnson," he reminded her. "Yet he was hanged most
treacherously."

"But not by Clifford, sir! Not by Clifford! He would scorn to do such
a deed." She stood for a moment, regarding him with such pleading that
Peggy choked. Suddenly Harriet crossed the room and flung herself
before him.

"Sir," she cried seizing his hand, "Harriet Owen hath never knelt to
mortal man before save h