"Much of the obligation is my own," he replied with courtly gallantry. Then his manner changed as he said: "Your sister is a sweet little maid,--it is most sad that she should have lost her father. He was, as is his son, a worthy and stanch patriot. These are troublous times, Mistress Devereux, and one so young and charming as she may come to feel the need of a protector; although, from all I have seen of her brother--your husband--it might well be supposed my own poor services would never be called into use." "I thank you, sir; and I am sure Dorothy does the same--and both of us with all our hearts." And Mary ventured to extend her hand. Washington arose from his chair, and his large, strong fingers closed about her own slender ones in a firm clasp, which she felt still tingling in their tips when she found Dorothy waiting for her at the head of the stairs. "Oh, Mary," she burst out, looking as though something were amiss, "I am glad you are come. I've been so affrighted." Then, as they started down the stairs, she told how a dreadful-appearing man had come out of the tap-room, and stood glaring at her, as he demanded fiercely to know her business. "I was so scared that I could not speak, and I did not dare go back into the room. I am sure the man was full of drink." "Where is he? I see no one." And Mary craned her neck to look over the rail into the hall below. "He went back into the taproom when he found I would not answer him." They had now reached the foot of the staircase; and as though waiting for the clicking of their high heels on the oaken floor, the taproom door opened suddenly, and a great hulking fellow, with a red face, topped by a wild shock of black hair, came staggering against them. Both girls cried out, and started to fly up the stairs. But they were reassured by the advent of Mistress Trask, who chanced to be coming down the hall, and who spoke sharply to the man, bidding him have a care how he ran into ladies. "'T is only Farmer Gilbert," she said, turning to her frightened guests, and seeming surprised to find them in that part of the house. "There's no cause to be alarmed, my pretties." Mary glanced with disgust at the drunkard, who was now attempting a maudlin apology. But she said nothing, either to him or to the landlady, and went her way with Dorothy. No sooner had they closed the door of their own apartments than they hurried to the light and examined the precious slip of paper. It read: "A solemn promise given to Mistress Dorothy Devereux, of Marblehead. G. Washington." "Oh, Dot," Mary exclaimed, "I never thought,--we have told him an untruth!" Dorothy was still looking at the paper, but at Mary's alarming words she raised her eyes in wonder. "You are not Mistress Dorothy Devereux, but Mistress--" "Sh-h!" cried Dot, putting her hand quickly over Mary's lips. Then they looked at one another and laughed, but uneasily. CHAPTER XXIX