What was the matter with the fellow? Could he have sent for me merely to ask that question, insisting on privacy? There must surely be some hidden purpose behind this. Yet if so, there was no betrayal in the man's face. His eyes had an angry gleam in them, and his words were shot at me in deadly earnest. "The lieutenant?" I repeated, not prepared for a direct reply. "Why, I hardly know--curiosity largely." He stared at me in manifest unbelief. "What do you expect to gain by lying?" he exclaimed sullenly. "You saw him, no doubt, or you would not have asked what you did." "Certainly I saw him," more deeply puzzled than before at his insistence. "That was what aroused my interest. He seemed such a mere lad as he rode past, and later I heard his voice, the voice of a boy." "Was that all?" "All! What else could you suppose? It was dark, only a little gleam of moon revealed outlines. I couldn't distinguish the face, but when he failed to appear after the fight I remembered him, and was afraid he had been hurt. Now I want to know what you mean. Who was the lad?" He had seated himself on the stump, and was leaning forward, his face hidden from the light of the fire. "Well, go on then," he returned finally. "If that's all you saw of him it's all right." "No, it's not all right," I insisted, aroused by his peculiar actions. "What is all this mystery about? You told me you didn't know the man." "I said I hadn't seen him; that we joined Delavan after dark," he corrected sharply. "But you needn't try to interview me, Major Lawrence," stiffening with anger, "for I haven't anything to say to a spy and leader of guerillas." "You requested this interview; however, if you are satisfied I am, and you can return to your men. Shall I call the guard?" He hesitated a moment, but whatever it was which had first inspired him to question me, was too strong to be thrown aside. "Did--did Mistress Mortimer help you escape from Philadelphia?" he asked bluntly. "That is entirely my affair. Why don't you ask the lady herself?" "See here, damn you!" he burst out. "I haven't seen the lady. When I got back to the dining-room she was gone, and then I was ordered out here. But you knew you were being sought after, and I cannot imagine who else told you." "You do not exhibit very great faith in the lady--the daughter of a loyalist." He drew a quick breath, suddenly aware that he had gone too far.