fore pronouncing such a sentence. In truth Grant
possessed no facts, merely suspicions. He had reasons to believe me a
spy, but there was not a paper on my body to confirm that suspicion, and
my having been in apparent command of the minute men in their attack on
Delavan's foragers was no license for hanging. That was an incident of
war, and might have occurred in the direct performance of a soldier's
duty. Altogether I was satisfied that Mortimer would merely hold me
prisoner, reporting the affair to Clinton.

I had scarcely reasoned this out, however, when a corporal threw open the
door, ordering my guard to conduct me into the Colonel's presence. I was
taken to the parlor, where the furniture had been somewhat rearranged,
and found myself confronting Mortimer, the officer I had heard addressed
as Seldon, and Grant. The latter was speaking vehemently:

"I tell you, Colonel, this has got to be done; he is a spy, and here for
some infamous purpose."

"Well, I've sent for the fellow, Grant; what more do you want? I'll give
him five minutes in which to explain, and that is all. Seldon, have the
men go on ahead along the trail."

"Yes, sir, they are off already."

"Very well. Have our horses outside; we can catch up within a mile or
two." He wheeled sharply about, and looked at me sternly. "Well, sir, I
have very little time to waste on you at present, but I advise truthful
answers. What is your name?"

"Allen Lawrence."

"You claim to be in the Continental service--what rank?"

"Major in the Maryland Line, Maxwell's Brigade."

"Dressed hurriedly, probably, and forgot your uniform."

"I have lately been serving with the Jersey militia, sir, as Captain
Grant can testify," I answered civilly.

"And Captain Grant is only too anxious," broke in that officer
impatiently. "If you will listen to me, Colonel, I'll tell you what I
know in two minutes or less. It will settle this fellow's status."

Mortimer glanced from my face to that of the speaker, evidently attracted
by the vindictiveness of the voice.

"All right, Grant, go on," he said shortly, "only I shall pass judgment
as a soldier, and not because of any personal quarrel. What is it you
know?"

"That this man came into Philadelphia three days ago dressed as an
officer of British Infantry. He claimed to be Lieutenant Fortesque, of
the 42nd Foot, with despatches from New York. Howe vouched for him, and
furnished him with a pass and orderly. He put in the who