Anger sparkled in the girl’s eye as he addressed her; it was clear that she held him in great aversion. Mark’s face showed the same sly, crafty, smiling expression as of yore; and he rubbed his hands together as he stood there, exciting in his Cousin Tom’s breast an indignant desire to come out and kick him. “Why have you left the room and your father’s guests?” inquired Mark. “My father’s guests!” Lucy turned upon him a look of scorn. “They are all your father’s friends, are they not?” “They are his enemies,” returned the girl, “and well you know it, Mark Harwood.” “I am sorry to hear you say that,” said Mark, “because you know that I----” “I also know you to be his enemy,” flashed the young lady. “Lucy!” his voice was filled with injured surprise. “Oh, don’t use that tone to me! It does not deceive me for a moment. You are a king’s man--a Tory--a spy of Cornwallis. Even at this moment you are here in the British general’s pay, to collect any evidence that may be injurious to my poor father.” “You are mistaken, Lucy. You do me an injustice. It is true that I am loyal to the king----” “Yes, and to prove your loyalty you place yourself at the head of a band of men who would be a disgrace to the most barbarous country; they kill, burn, and destroy the lives and possessions of inoffensive persons, and you take pride in it, Mark Harwood; your boasts have reached my ears, even here!” He looked at her for a moment; the offensive smile gradually faded from his face and a bitter look took its place. He saw that his pretensions did not throw her off her guard, so he showed his true colors. “So you have heard of some of my doings,” laughed he, savagely. “Well, I can’t say that it has affected you greatly.” “If you mean that your deeds have not frightened me, you are right. I do not fear you, Mark Harwood, and I never shall.” “Don’t be too sure of that,” sneered he. “Stranger things have happened. This is a nest of rebels, and----” “Prove it.” “Your father’s refusal to aid the cause of the king is proof enough.” “Take care,” said Lucy, bravely. “Do not go too far. Remember that my father has powerful friends in England--friends who will not desert him if he is in need.” “Do you suppose that I don’t know that? His influence has been all that saved him a dozen times or more. But he is a rebel, and you are a rebel; don’t deny it.” “I cannot speak for my father,” exclaimed Lucy, “but I can for myself. I love liberty and hate the tyrannies of the king.” “Brave girl!” exclaimed the concealed Tom, incautiously. The sound of his voice reached Mark’s ears, but not the substance of the words. “What was that?” said the young Tory, his face paling slightly. But Lucy gazed steadfastly away and did not answer. “Did you not hear something like a voice?”