"Always the woman; what would you do without my sex to bear your mistakes?" "But was this a mistake? Did I read altogether wrong?" "Don't expect a confession from me, sir," demurely. "I have no memory of any promise." "No, the barest suggestion was all your lips gave; it was the eyes that challenged." "You must have dreamed; perhaps you recall the suggestion?" "I took it to mean that you would not be altogether averse to meeting me again through the kindness of some mutual friend." "No doubt you have found such a friend?" "I have scarcely seen a face I know to-night," I pleaded. "I cannot even guess from what place of mystery you appeared so suddenly. So now I throw myself upon your mercy." "I wonder is it quite safe!" hesitatingly. "But, perhaps, the risk is equally great on your part. Ah! the lights go on again." "And the band plays a Hungarian Waltz; how better could we cement friendship than to that measure?" "You think so? I am not so sure, and there are many names already on my card--" "Do not look," I interrupted swiftly, "for I claim first choice since this afternoon." "You do?" and her eyes laughed into mine provokingly. "And I had forgotten it all; did I, indeed promise you?" "Only with your eyes." "Oh, my eyes! always my eyes! Well, for once, at least, I will redeem even that visionary pledge," and her glance swept the room hastily. "But I advise that you accept my surrender quickly, sir--I am not sure but this was Captain Grant's dance, and he is coming now." CHAPTER V THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE Her hand was in mine, my arm already around her waist, when the officer bowed before us. He had been but a dim figure in the afternoon, but now I saw him for a tall, slender man, somewhat swarthy of face, with black hair and moustache, and a keen eye, attired in the green and white of the Queen's Rangers. He smiled, but with a sarcastic curl to the upper lip not altogether pleasant. "Your pardon, Mistress Claire," he said boldly, sweeping me with a supercilious glance, "but am I mistaken in believing this waltz was pledged to me?" "By mistake, Captain," her lips smiling, her eyes steady. "It seems I had overlooked a promise made during the afternoon." "Oh, indeed," he turned toward me, staring insolently. "The hero of the rescue, I presume." I felt the restraining pressure of her hand upon my sleeve, and her voice replied calmly, before I succeeded in finding words. "This is the gentleman who protected me from the mob, if that be what you mean. Permit me to present Captain Grant of the Queen's Rangers, Lieutenant--pardon my having already forgotten your name." "Fortesque," I stammered, intensely hating the necessary deception. "Ah, yes--Lieutenant Fortesque, of the 42nd British Foot." We bowed coldly, neither extending a hand, the Captain twisting his moustache as he continued staring at me. "Fortesque," he repeated slowly. "Fortesque; not of this garrison, I believe."