The seriousness of my situation was clearly apparent, yet what could I do in order to save myself? My word was pledged, and it was evident the girl had no intention of betraying my presence. But would she come to me? Would she give me the opportunity of escape? It must be accomplished now if at all, before Le Gaire returned, or had time to complete his round of the pickets. Every instant of delay robbed me of a chance--and my life hung in the balance. There was little doubt as to that; I could advance no military reason for being treated other than as a spy, and my fate would be the short shift meted out to such over the drum-head. All this swept through my brain as I listened to the hoofs of Le Gaire's horse pound the gravel outside, the sound dying away in the distance. The sentinel marched slowly past the window, his figure silhouetted against the red glow of a camp-fire inside the gate. Then, without a warning sound, the door was pushed ajar, and the girl slipped silently through. The distant reflection of the fire barely served to reveal her face, and outline her figure. She was breathing heavily and trembling with excitement, her voice barely audible. "You--you heard what was said in there?" she asked, eager to gain time. "You know Captain Le Gaire has returned?" "Yes," thinking to calm her by an appearance of coolness. "He seems to be a most blood-thirsty individual." "He was angry at being deceived. No one can blame him, but I simply had to tantalize him in order to get him away." "Was that it? Do you mean so you might come here to me?" "Why, of course. I had promised you. Do you think I would demean myself by lying--to a Yank? Besides," her voice faltered, "you would have kept your parole, and--and--" "Waited here to be hung, probably," I broke in, "as that ceremony appears to be part of the programme. My only hope was that you might possibly object to this item of entertainment." "Don't laugh," soberly. "There is no fun in it for me." "Then you would show mercy even to a Yankee spy?" "I am not sure of that. I am a Rebel, but that has no serious weight now. You are not a spy; if you have acted as one, it has been more through my fault than your own. Besides you are my prisoner, and if I should permit you to fall into the hands of those men, to be condemned to death, the memory would haunt me forever. I am not that kind, Lieutenant Galesworth. I don't want your gratitude; I would rather fight you than help you. I want you to understand this first of all." "I do, Miss Hardy; you simply perform a duty." "Yes; I--I keep my word." "But, after all, isn't it a little easier because--you like me?" She drew in her breath so quickly it was almost a sob, the swift, unexpected question disarming her in an instant. It was no longer the tiger cat, but the woman who gasped out a surprised response. "No; oh, no! that is what makes it harder." "Harder to aid me?"