"Yes, I care; any woman would. It is not true that I have served you merely because you were a soldier of the Colonies. I think it was true, perhaps, at first, but--but later it was different. Oh! why do I say this! Why do I delay your departure by consenting to remain here in conversation! Major Lawrence, cannot you realize that my only desire is to have you get away safely?" "But that is not my only desire," I protested. "It must be weeks, months, before I can hope to see you again. I am a servant of the Colonies, and must go where I am sent; we are upon the verge of a campaign involving exposure and battle. I may not even come forth alive. Must I go without a word, without a hope? Claire, Claire, sweetheart, you have no right to turn me away, because of some phantom of imagination--" "But it is not, it is terribly real." "I care not; I would still love you in spite of all; you may be a spy--a British spy--but the fact would mean nothing to me. I would trust you, Claire, your womanhood; I should know that whatever you did was in accordance with your conscience, and be content--if you but love me. And, thank God! I know you do." "I--I--no! You cannot mean that!" "Ay, but I do. Have you supposed I could not read the message of those eyes? Oh, it may be dark, dear, but there is a star-gleam, and when the lashes lift--they confess a thousand times more than your lips acknowledge. Yet I insist on the lips! Now tell me," and I held her to me, "tell me!" "What--oh, Major, please!" "There are but three words to speak; whisper them, dear, and I go." "Three words!" "Such easy words; they are trembling on your lips now--_I love you_." "But if I do not; if they are false. Hush! There is some one on the veranda--Seldon must have returned." "All the more reason why you should speak quickly," I whispered, without releasing her. "Will you go, then? At once?" "I pledge my word." She drew a deep breath, her eyes shadowed, but I could hear the swift pulsing of her heart. "It--it will mean nothing--nothing." "Of course; only a memory to dream over." Her lashes lifted, her head tilted back upon my shoulder. For a bare instant I gazed down into the depths. "Then--then I will--_I love you_!" With the words I kissed her, pressing my lips to hers; an instant they clung, and I felt the pressure of her arm, the hot blood rioting through my veins. "Sweetheart," I whispered, "sweetheart." "No, no!" and she thrust me from her. "You forget. I am not that. You must not think it even. See, that man is coming down the steps. He will discover Captain Grant, and it will be too late--Oh, go, Major, please go!" I turned without another word, fully realizing the danger, the necessity of action. Her hand touched mine as I grasped the rein. "We part friends," she said softly. "Some day you may understand and forgive me." "I understand now more than you think," I returned swiftly, "and I am coming back to learn all." CHAPTER XXIV I UNCOVER CAPTAIN GRANT