I hesitated, fronting this direct question, looking straight across the table into her serious face, as she leaned toward me. What was my most important duty--that which I owed the Federal army, or that I owed to this girl? And then again--did I really have a choice? There was never a doubt in my mind as to what she would do if the occasion arose. I had tested her quality already, and fully comprehended the promise to turn me over to the Confederate guard was no idle threat. She would trust my word, but, failing that, would certainly do the other thing. There was no spirit of play in those eyes watching me. "Apparently I possess no real choice," I answered, at last. "Either way I am a prisoner." She smiled, evidently relieved at my tone. "Yes--but have you no preference as to captors?" "Put thus, hesitation ends; I accept the terms of parole." "You mean it?" "Yes." She extended her hand across the table, and I as instantly grasped it, both almost unconscious of the actions. "I ought to thank you," I began, but she broke in as quickly: "No; please don't. I know I am not doing what I should. It is all so strange that I am actually dazed; I have lost all understanding of myself. It is painful enough to realize that I yield to these impulses, without being constantly reminded that I fail in duty. I do not want your gratitude." She had withdrawn her hand, and was upon her feet. I thought her whole form was trembling, her lips seeking to frame words. "I certainly had no intention of hurting you." "Oh, I know--I know that. You cannot understand. Only I am sorry you came--came into my life, for ever since it has been trouble. Now you must simply wait until I say go, and then you will go; won't you?" "Yes--but not to forget." She turned back toward me. "You had better," coldly. "It will be useless to remember." It was my turn to smile, for she could not play the part, her eyes veiling themselves behind the long lashes. "Nevertheless I shall," I insisted warmly. "I find it not altogether unpleasant--being your prisoner." CHAPTER XI THE RETURN OF LE GAIRE "I shall endeavor to make it as little unpleasant as I can," she rejoined, "but will demand obedience. Right wheel; forward march. Yes, through the door; the surroundings are not unfamiliar." It was the judge's library, where I had hidden before at the coming of Captain Le Gaire, and she paused in the doorway, glancing curiously about. "Remember now, you are on parole, but restricted to this room." "For how long?" She made an exceedingly pretty picture in that frame, and I was in no hurry to be deprived of it. "Until--well, until I am pleased to release you. Don't scowl; I'm sure I'm trying to be nice, and I never was so polite to a Yankee before. Really this is the pleasantest room in the house; I have passed hours in here myself." "Perhaps this afternoon--" She shook her head violently, her eyes dancing with laughter.