t night Rodney found it difficult to put thoughts of the sick man
out of his mind and, when a few days later he again had occasion to
visit the camp, he took along with him some delicacies which he
thought might tempt the patient's appetite.

"So you didn't forget me. What's this? Something besides camp fare?
Oh, yes, you are David Cameron's son, but you've got a life work ahead
if you live up to his standard."

"I believe you, sir."

"Would you be willing to send this letter? I suppose it will reach
Philadelphia in a few days. By the way, did your father come to
Charlottesville from London?"

"No. He lived nearly eighteen years down in Prince William County. He
was employed there much of the time by Squire Danesford."

"Danesford! Did he have a daughter about your own age?"

"Yes. Lisbeth. She was in Philadelphia the last I knew of her. I heard
the other day that the state had seized their estate. Danesford is a
bitter Tory, you know."

"Danesford died a poor man in London last April. His daughter, I
understand, died about three months later. At least the person to whom
that letter is addressed wrote me she couldn't live."

"Are--are you sure? I didn't even know she was sick."

The man looked keenly at his caller. "I have no reason to doubt the
report. It was said she took her father's death very much to heart,
and, what with not being well,--she had nursed a friend, I think,--she
was taken down with a fever. You must have known her?

"Why, she was my playmate. I--I can't realize she's dead." Then
hurriedly saying good-bye he went away, seeing little and thinking
much, and the "Chevalier" lay looking at the blank wall.

On arriving home Rodney went directly to his room. He shrank from
telling the news to his mother. He must first think it over. The girl
in the red cloak who had stamped her foot and called him a simpleton,
ah, she was the one he missed, and not her who had laughed in his face
that winter night and wheedled him as she laughed.

Mrs. Allison was greatly shocked. Rodney had been ashamed to tell his
mother of the time Lisbeth had tricked him, and now it somehow seemed
disloyal to the girl to speak of it. Well, he would forget it, and so
resolving he worked as never before. There was work to do, both for
himself and Zeb; moreover, it was profitable.

When he next had occasion to visit the encampment he called on the
"Chevalier" as soon as he arrived. All the way to the camp the
question had b