Yet at this moment her stricken face, her eyes, wells of grief and appeal, rose up before me, and gave me a strange bewildering certainty that I was loved. That I was loved! She might pour contempt on me, she might insult me; but the very violence of her language proved that there was something in her heart akin to that which swelled in mine. There was a bond between us. Miles might part us, but her eyes followed me, and her heart. For, here was the old mystery, the old puzzle. But of pain is born knowledge; and with her reproaches in my ears, and every pace of my horse carrying me farther from her—and never perhaps should I see her again!—I was sure at last that I had touched her heart. Yes, out of my wretchedness I came suddenly to that knowledge. The eyes that had followed me had given the lie to the eyes that accused me. There was a mystery still, but—at this point Paton broke in upon my thoughts. “Major, rouse yourself!” he cried in my ear. “Come, you’ve cheated the Jews and bilked the sponging house, and you’re as mum as one of these confounded trimmers who are neither on one side nor the other! Cheer up! Your heart will be whole as soon as your arm, Though now they are moaning on ilka green loaning The flowers of the Forest are all wede away! There I’ll say no more! But you’ve never asked how we came to find you? It was due to me, my lad, due to me! One of Ferguson’s men came in a week ago. He’d been hiding by day and walking by night. He heard from some loyalists—few enough in this part!—who sheltered him, that there was a wounded officer lying at a plantation not far from King’s Mountain. Greene had let us know you were alive—quite a courteous message it was—and putting two and two together with the help of a man who knew the district we fixed upon the place where we found you. But we did not say a word—far too much has crept out lately. I saw Tarleton and he consented to push ten miles up Fishing Creek, and to lie there thirty hours. He gave me Carroll and twenty men, but—in your ear, Major—Carroll’s too much given to burning and harrying for my taste, and I insisted on having Haybittle as well, who’s a good fellow, though not thorough-bred. And here we are!” “How’s my lord?” I asked, forcing myself—it was no small effort—to take an interest in things. “He has gone down the country for his health for ten days; he has left my other lord in charge.” “Rawdon?”