DOR. (_excitedly_). Yes, yes. You must save him. He shall owe his life to you. Some one calling himself friend is his foe. (_Rising; forgets, and assumes natural voice._) He has done you a grievous wrong, but you will forgive that? ROGER. That voice! (_Raises_ DOROTHY'S _veil_.) Dorothy? POTTS. Cleverly done, little maid. You actually waited eight minutes. (_Looks at watch._) ROGER. Major! Dorothy, what does this mean? POTTS. A well-laid scheme, Roger, to hold a stolen interview with you. Miss Dorothy, you can talk with Roger just five minutes, no longer. The colonel will return by that time. (_Exit_ MAJOR. ROGER _sits on log_; DOR. _kneels at his side_.) DOR. Forgive me for coming, Roger, but I was so anxious. ROGER. Anxious, little one? Why, what is the trouble? Is it a quarrel with “my dearest friend Mollie”? DOR. Don't speak like that. No one ever gives me credit for any depth of feeling, just because I laugh and take the good of life as it comes along. ROGER. Which I hope you will always do, Dorothy dear. Come, forgive me, and tell me your trouble. DOR. Before the colonel left home after his illness, Mr. Newcomb called one day. I entered the drawing-room, and overheard a conversation which he was having with some man,—a soldier in the colonel's regiment. ROGER. Did you hear the man's name? DOR. Yes; Mr. Newcomb called him Gibbs. Oh, I was so frightened, for I heard them plan to kill the colonel. ROGER. Kill the colonel? How? When? DOR. This man was, some night, to be placed as the colonel's sentinel. That was to be the time and place. “After Taps” they said. ROGER. Have you told any one of this? DOR. Only the major. It would never do to tell Ruth. She worries enough without that. ROGER. And you have kept it all to yourself? No wonder you were anxious. Dorothy, you are a treasure. DOR. But tell me, how can you save Gordon? ROGER. He says and thinks hard things of me, Dorothy. (_Both rise._) DOR. But you know at heart he does not mean it. It is all through that horrid Newcomb. ROGER. Yes; that horrid Newcomb. DOR. Promise me that you will do your best to save him. ROGER. No need to promise that. He is your brother; for that, if for no other reason, I must forget and forgive. DOR. Roger, you have made me so happy. ROGER. Then, for all I have suffered, I ask no better reward. (_Enter_ POTTS.) POTTS. Time's up. (POLLY _and_ BIJAH _enter_.) Where is Polly? POLLY. Here I am, sir. (BIJAH _very dejected_.) ROGER. Bijah, escort them both. Give the countersign, that they may cross the lines safely. POLLY. We do not need his assistance. He had better wait for another girl. (_Glares at_ BIJAH.) Come, Miss Dorothy. ROGER (_embraces_ DOR.). Good-by, sweetheart. No more anxious moments, remember. DOR. Never. Good-by, Pinky. (_Exeunt_ DOROTHY, POLLY, _and_ BIJAH.) POTTS. Poor Bijah looks unhappy, because the maid of his heart won't smile upon him. He has a good heart, and is “true as steel.”