"When I asked thee if the bonds hurt, thee said, 'Pretty bad,'" stated Sally, her manner full of accusation. "I did," he admitted. "It was not true," she cried. "And thee is to die! To die, and yet thee could stoop to trickery! Oh, how could thee do it? Thou art under the shadow of death. I would rather a thousand times that thee would have remained the obstinate Englishman that I deemed thee than to know that thee could do this." With that she flung up her head, and without another glance in his direction went swiftly out of the room. CHAPTER XXIV "THEE MAY TELL HIM AT THE LAST" "A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate; I've seen the last look of her heavenly eyes,-- I've heard the last sound of her blessed voice,-- I've seen her fair form from my sight depart! My doom is closed." --_Count Basil._ Clifford started as Sally uttered the word, "trickery," and a deep flush dyed his face. He threw out his hands in a protesting gesture, and opened his lips to speak, but she was gone before he could say a word. He turned toward Peggy appealingly. "Will you listen, my cousin?" he queried. "Or are you also shocked?" "Nay, Clifford; I believe that thee intended naught but to have a little sport," she replied. "That's just it," he cried eagerly. "Everything hath been so depressing the last few days that a little diversion was welcome. When Major Gordon came in, saying that you wished to see me, and that a friend was with you who feared to come in unless I was bound, I knew at once it was Miss Sally. When the major suggested that 'twould never do for the young lady to find me unbound, the idea appealed to me immediately. It promised some brightness, a little fun which is all my excuse, Peggy. I intended naught else. I thought you both would regard it as a great joke. I see now that I should not have done it. It was caddish." "I think Sally felt the worst anent thy saying that the cords hurt pretty bad," Peggy told him. "It seemed like an untruth to her." "'Fore George, Peggy!" cried the youth earnestly, "if she could but know the trouble I had in keeping still so that those ropes would not fall off she would think it was pretty bad." He laughed at the remembrance, and then became grave. "I seem to be unfortunate in more respects than one," he said with a sigh. "First, I misjudge you, Peggy. I can only explain that fact by saying that never before had I met any one of like truthfulness and so straightforward. Then, not knowing that your friends had the same attributes, I am guilty of injustice toward Sally. Now she misconstrues what was meant for a jest into a contemptible trick. Oh, it was! I see it now. I' faith! the sooner that execution comes off the better," he ended bitterly. "Don't speak like that, Clifford," chided Peggy gently. "I'm going to Sally and explain the matter to her. 'Twas all a miserable misapprehension. She will laugh most heartily when she understands it."