"Oh, but I can, Claire," and I bent over her, my hand fondling her hair. "I was there in the hall below, ready even then to act in your defence. I heard all that was said, saw all that was done." "You--you were there?" sobbing out the words. "You saw me kill him?" "Yes, and had you delayed another instant I should have done it." "Then--then," she glanced up, tears dimming her eyes, "you do not blame me? You do not think me a wicked wretch?" "I think you a brave, noble woman," I burst forth. "How could I feel otherwise? Look up, little girl; I want to see your face. No, don't shrink back from me. There is no cause. I know the whole story without your speaking a word. You asked me to come back to help you, and I came." "Yes," she whispered, "I know. You have been so good." "Good! I loved you, dear. From the moment I lifted you out of the way of that mob in Philadelphia, I have loved you. I did not understand much that occurred, but I have never doubted you. Now I realize the cause of your masquerade and know you were justified. I can bring you good news--Eric is not a traitor, but was a prisoner, captured by Fagin, and held at Grant's request. We found him bound and under guard out yonder, as we approached the house." "And he is here now?" "Yes; he was hurt in the fight, and is still unconscious, but will live." "His reputation--" "Is safe. Washington believes he brought him the news of Clinton's route of march, and will never know otherwise." She arose to her feet, standing straight and slender before me, the flickering light of the candle on her face. "Major Lawrence," she began, "I wish to get out of here--it seems like a grave to me,--but I must speak first. Oh, I am so glad I have accomplished what I endeavored to do for my brother. Captain Grant tried to make me believe him a deserter, but I would not. When he failed to come back to me as he had promised, I could hardly determine what my duty was. I knew his plans, his orders, and the thought came that I should carry these out myself. We looked sufficiently alike so that this could be done with little danger of discovery. He had uniforms concealed here, and I felt driven to impersonate him. I do not insist that I did right; I do not know--only it seemed right to me. Then--then," her voice faltered, "I met you, again and again, and I--I began to doubt myself. I had no one to confide in, no one to advise me. I was simply compelled to go ahead, and keep my own secret. The only ones I knew I could absolutely trust were our old house servants." "You doubted me even?" "Yes, at first, but you must not blame me. We met strangely; you were a gentleman and an officer; I felt sure of this, and was tempted oftentimes to tell you my story. But before I dared do so, you--you spoke of other things and--and then I was afraid." "Afraid of what?" and I caught her hand in mine. "That a knowledge of what you were attempting to accomplish would turn me against you?"