"This is where you have made your mistake," I went on convincingly. "Nothing is holding your daughter to Le Gaire but her promise. I was obliged to overhear their conversation after you left, and he appealed to her pride, to the honor of the Hardys, in order to gain her consent to the marriage. She told him she no longer loved him, that he was not the man she had supposed him to be--actually begged for release. I can understand the situation, and, it seems to me, you ought to now. He is a handsome fellow, dashing and reckless, the kind to make an impression. She was flattered by his attentions, and deceived into the thought that she really cared for him. Then she saw his true nature--his selfishness, brutality, cowardice, even--and revolted. I doubt if I had anything to do with this change--it was bound to come. You are a man, Major Hardy, and must know men--is Le Gaire the kind you would want your daughter to marry?" "By Gad! the way you put it--no!" emphatically. "I've thought well enough of him until to-night; probably he's kept his best side turned toward me, and, besides, it never once occurred to me that Billie didn't want him. I've heard stories about the man, pretty hard ones at that, but he appeared like a gentleman, and I naturally supposed them largely fairy tales. Because I felt sure Billie liked him, I did also, but to-night he has shown me the other side of his character. Still, I don't know that I wonder much at his hating you." "I have given him all the cause I could--would gladly give more if possible." Hardy's eyes twinkled. "I reckon your heart is all right, even if your uniform is the wrong color. But, young man, this affair puts me in a queer box. I spoke up rather hastily a while back, and now here I am seconding a damned Yankee in a fight against one of our own men--it don't just look right." "I merely accepted your own offer; no doubt my sergeant would act." "Oh, I'll stay. The fact is, I rather like you, Lieutenant--eh, what is the name? Oh, yes, Galesworth--you see Billie never even so much as mentioned having met you. Anyway, I'm in this affair, and am going to stick, although if all they tell about Le Gaire is true I wouldn't give much for your chances of coming out whole." "He is a duellist then?" "Notorious; although, as near as I can learn, he has not had a serious affair for some time. He assured me once, when I ventured to question him, that he was through with that sort of thing. It's common practice among the Louisiana hot-bloods, and I supposed he had got his senses. Probably Billie never even heard of his reputation in this respect. What do you do best--shoot or fence?" "Shoot, although I am hardly an expert at either." "Le Gaire will name swords," he said soberly. "He's a fine swordsman, and probably the only question is how badly he'll try to hurt you." "A pleasant prospect surely."