At this her whole nature was up in rebellion, for she could not brook his pursuing the matter farther, after what she had already told him. "Let go my hands!" she exclaimed angrily. "Let me go! You have no right to question me as to my doings." He dropped her hands at once, and rising to his feet, turned his back to her, and looked out of the window. A mighty flood of jealousy was surging through his brain; and that which he had so long repressed was struggling hard to uproot itself from the secret depths,--where he was striving to hide it from her knowledge--and burst forth in fierce words from his lips. Had this hated Britisher dared to steal into the sacred place of the child's heart, which he himself, from a sense of honor, was bound to make no effort to penetrate? The mere suspicion of such a thing was maddening. Dorothy glanced at him. How big and angry he looked, standing there with tightly folded arms, his lips compressed, and his brows contracted into a deep scowl! How unlike he was to the sunny-faced Hugh Knollys who had been her companion since childhood! "Don't be angry with me, Hugh," she pleaded softly, venturing timidly to touch his shoulder. He whirled about so suddenly as to startle her, and she fell back a pace, her wondering eyes staring at the set white face before her. "I am not angry, Dot," he said, letting his arms drop from their clasping; "I am only--hurt." And he slowly resumed his place upon the window-seat. "I don't wish to hurt you, Hugh," Dorothy declared, as she sat down by him again. He seemed to make an effort to smile, as he asked, "Don't you?" "No, I do not." And now her voice began to gather a little asperity. "But you do not seem to consider that you said aught to hurt me, as well." He took her hand and stroked it gently. "You know well, Dot," he said, "that I'd not hurt you by word or deed. And it is only when I think you are doing what is like to hurt yourself, that I make bold to speak as I did just now." Dorothy was silent, but her brain was busy. The thought had come to her that she must bind him by some means,--make it certain that he should not speak of this matter to her brother. And a wild impulse--one she did not stop to question--urged her to see that the young soldier was not brought to any accounting for whatever he had done. She wondered how much Hugh might know, and how much was only suspicion,--surmise. And with the intent to satisfy herself as to this, she said, "Just because you saw a redcoat watching me, as you thought, and at a distance, you forthwith accuse me of walking with him." She spoke with a fine show of impatience and reproof, but still permitting him to hold and caress her hand. "Aye, Dot, but there be redcoats and redcoats. And this one happened to be that yellow-faced gallant we are forever meeting, the one you--"