"I am going to make you believe," she insisted. "I will tell you how it happened, and then you shall take some men with you, and go down there, and bring the man up. No, I want to tell you about it first--- please, please listen." "Would you mind if I call Miles, and then you can tell your story to both of us?" I asked. "The fellow is armed, is he not; and I shall need to take some one along with me?" "Yes, the man has a revolver. You mean the sergeant? I do not mind telling him." I hurried back to the front of the house, more anxious to be assured as to what was going on outside than to discover Miles. Yet there was nothing alarming, even the cavalry regiment having been withdrawn across the pike. Without a question the sergeant followed me back to where the girl waited. CHAPTER XXXIV HER STORY She remained exactly as I had left her, leaning against the wall in the slight recess left by the stairs, and she recognized the sergeant with an inclination of the head, although her eyes were upon me. "Your friends outside seem inclined to allow us a few moments in which to investigate this matter," I said. "But we shall need to hurry. This is Miles, and I want you to tell the entire story from the beginning." My tone was incisive, and she responded as though to an order. "I will be brief," she began. "My father and I were at the head of the stairs when your reinforcements came. We were merely waiting there to make sure you had left the house. Yet we could not fail to overhear what was said, and to at once realize the importance of the information. I spoke of it to Major Hardy, but he felt himself still under parole, bound by his word of honor. I was under no such obligation, however, and, for the moment it seemed as though my whole duty demanded that I should escape immediately, and bear this news to the nearest Confederate commander. Nothing else, no other obligation appeared as important as this. It was not that I wished to harm you, or to betray you to possible death or imprisonment, but it seemed to me all that was personal should be forgotten in duty to the cause of the South. It--it did hurt me, Lieutenant Galesworth," her voice suddenly changing into a plea, "but I believed it to be right, to be what I should do." "I understand fully; we both respect your convictions." Miles nodded gravely, but said nothing, and the girl hurried on, yet with evident relief.