“It is a small matter,” I said, thinking bitterly that Pettus could not vaguely guess how small a matter this dispute over the weapons had suddenly become. Then I saw how I might perhaps fend off the last and worst of the consequences of the morrow’s revealments; but it was necessary first to pave the way cautiously and carefully. “The captain is a good swordsman, whatever else may be said of him,” I began after another interval of silence. “It may easily happen that the man who fights with him will cross a wider river than this Hudson of ours, Jack.” “Bah!” Pettus spat the word out contemptuously. Then he added the friendly smiting, as I expected he would. “Don’t try to make me see you in any other light than that of a true man, Dick.” “I would not willingly do that, Jack, believe me. But there are always chances, and the wise man, though he were the bravest that ever drew steel out of leather, will provide against them. If I should not come off from this night’s--from to-morrow morning’s work with a tongue to speak for itself, will you carry a word for me?” “Surely I will. But to whom?” “To Beatrix Leigh. Tell her she must go down to her grave believing that I was no craven. Tell her----” “I’m listening,” said Pettus, when the pause had grown to an impossible length. My lips were dry, and I moistened them and swallowed hard. After all, what word was there that I could send to the woman I loved without taking the risk of betraying my trust as an officer and the confidant of Mr. Hamilton? “It isn’t worth the trouble,” I went on, when the hopelessness of it became plain. “She will understand without my message; or she will refuse to understand with it.” Jack laughed boisterously. “I’m no good at conundrums, Dick. I’ll tell her the captain challenged you for brushing a fly from his face. Will that do?” I smiled in spite of my misery. There would be nothing to tell Beatrix Leigh or any one else about the meeting which was already impossible for one of the combatants. “Let it go, Jack, and pinch the candle out. Didn’t you hear the drum-roll? We’ll have the patrol in upon us presently. Do you turn in, and catch your few hours of beauty sleep. It’s one of my notions to sit alone before the fire on my birthday night, casting up the year’s accounts. You’ll indulge me, won’t you?” Jack did it, grumbling a little at what he was pleased to call my churlishness. It was weary work killing the time till he should be safely asleep. I was young, vigorous, and for all my youth, somewhat of a seasoned veteran, but that lonely hour or more spent before Jack Pettus’s fire went nearer to sapping my determination than any former trial I could recall.