hastily. "But
I advise that you accept my surrender quickly, sir--I am not sure but
this was Captain Grant's dance, and he is coming now."

CHAPTER V

THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE

Her hand was in mine, my arm already around her waist, when the officer
bowed before us. He had been but a dim figure in the afternoon, but now I
saw him for a tall, slender man, somewhat swarthy of face, with black
hair and moustache, and a keen eye, attired in the green and white of the
Queen's Rangers. He smiled, but with a sarcastic curl to the upper lip
not altogether pleasant.

"Your pardon, Mistress Claire," he said boldly, sweeping me with a
supercilious glance, "but am I mistaken in believing this waltz was
pledged to me?"

"By mistake, Captain," her lips smiling, her eyes steady. "It seems I had
overlooked a promise made during the afternoon."

"Oh, indeed," he turned toward me, staring insolently. "The hero of the
rescue, I presume."

I felt the restraining pressure of her hand upon my sleeve, and her voice
replied calmly, before I succeeded in finding words.

"This is the gentleman who protected me from the mob, if that be what you
mean. Permit me to present Captain Grant of the Queen's Rangers,
Lieutenant--pardon my having already forgotten your name."

"Fortesque," I stammered, intensely hating the necessary deception.

"Ah, yes--Lieutenant Fortesque, of the 42nd British Foot."

We bowed coldly, neither extending a hand, the Captain twisting his
moustache as he continued staring at me.

"Fortesque," he repeated slowly. "Fortesque; not of this garrison, I
believe."

"No, from New York," coolly. "I regret having interfered with your
programme."

"Don't mention it; there are other ladies present, and, no doubt, your
gallant act was worthy the reward; a pleasant evening, sir," and he drew
aside, stiffly military. Eager to lose as little as possible of the
measure I swung my partner forward, catching glimpse again of the man's
face as we circled.

"Pleasant disposition," I ventured, without meaning to be uncivil.

"Oh, very," and her eyes met mine frankly. "But you must not quarrel with
him; that is his one specialty, you know."

"Is the warning on your account, or my own?"

"Both, perhaps. Captain Grant's family and mine are neighbors--or were
before war intervened--and between our fathers exists a life-long
friendship. I could never consent to be the cause of his quarrelling with
any one, and I have rea