is is cruel of you!" she cried, much
distressed. "I was thinking as much of you as of myself."

"You were, I am sure, thinking more of me than of yourself, and
for this I speak plainly, madame. I am overcome with your generosity,
but my appreciation of it is too high to allow you, an honourable
woman, to wreck your good name for my sake. I cannot go among the
English, where you might be unrecognised, but where I am still a
proscribed rebel; you cannot go among your own people to Quebec,
where you would but suffer a martyrdom for your courage and sacrifice.
No, no, my dear madame, believe me, it is not to be thought of!"

Here she began to cry again, somewhat to my relief, for I saw that
her resolution was giving way.

"Oh, mon ami! I have been nothing but a silly fool of a woman all
my life! Since my husband married me out of a convent, no man has
spoken to me but to flatter, or to make love, until you came. You
are the only one who has treated me as an equal, and because of
this, I would do anything for you. I care nothing for what the
world says!"

"Probably not, madame, because you have no idea what extremely
cruel things it can say," I returned, for enthusiasm is a bad
beginning for argument. "But suppose I were willing. I have only
my sword to depend upon, and you know how much that is worth
nowadays! If I turned it into a spit, I could not even provide a
capon to roast upon it. But long before we came to that pass we
would infallibly be captured or starved, for a woman cannot put up
with the hardships of such a venture. I had some months of it in
Scotland after the Forty-five, and I know what it means. To lodge
a la belle etoile, and to dine with Duke Humphrey, as we English
put it, may be the highest romance, but I assure you the quarters
are draughty in the one, and the table bare with the other."

As I spake her face brightened, and by the time I made an end she
took both my hands and said, determinedly: "Then, mon ami, you
shall go alone. I will have everything in readiness, and I do it
for you with all my heart--the more so that your refusal makes it
better worth the doing," she added, with an attempt at a laugh,
and then turned and ran off, that she might not discover her feelings
further.

It was a surprising outcome, and much as I regretted the seemingly
ungracious part I was forced to play, I could not but rejoice at
the opportunity offered of escaping from English hands, particularly
those of su