"Life without honor hath no charm for me, my sister," he returned solemnly. "A parole is more binding upon a soldier than ropes of steel, or chains of iron would be. Men have broken paroles, but when they do they no longer are esteemed by honorably minded men. Such are poltroons, cowards. I will not be of their number. A truce to this talk! If I am to die, I will die as a soldier, blameless and of spotless reputation." "Clifford," she entreated him earnestly, "'tis the only hope. You have already broken your parole in passing the prescribed limits of the rides. I had regard for your scruples by having you brought here. And now, since you are here through no fault of your own, you can take advantage of the fact to escape." "Sophistry," he uttered shortly. "That is no salve to the conscience, Harriet." "But the death, my brother?" She was very white for Clifford was moving toward the door. "'Tis no way for a gentleman to die." "The mode is not at all to my liking, my sister," he answered gravely. "Hanging is not, in very truth, a death for a gentleman; still a man may be a gentleman though he be hanged." He put his hand on the door-knob and turned again toward Peggy. But Harriet uttered a cry of anguish. "I'll never see you again, Clifford," she cried. "And father will be broken-hearted. He helped me in this." "Harriet!" he cried. "Do not ask me to believe that Colonel Owen prefers his son's life to his son's honor? I'll not believe it." "Believe what you will, my brother, only come with me," and she clung to him pleadingly. "I'll call those men, Clifford." "You shall not, Harriet," he answered putting her aside. "Instead get your own horse and come back with us." "I cannot, Clifford. I must see our father. Aren't you going to kiss me?" But Clifford turned from her, saying coldly: "You have wounded me too deeply, my sister." "Clifford, thee must not leave thy sister so," interposed Peggy. "Mistaken she may be in her efforts for thy liberty, but 'tis done through love for thee. 'Twould be monstrous to leave her unkindly!" "I mean not to be unkind, my cousin," he returned. "But consider my feelings when my own sister hath tried to put me in a position that would reflect upon mine honor." "Thee must not be too hard on her, Clifford. Women do not regard such things as men do. When their affections are bestowed all else is subordinated to them. Doth a mother, a sister, a wife cease to love when man hath lost his honor? I tell thee such things seem different to us. Thy sister hath intended thee no wrong. 'Tis because of her love for thee that she hath done this." "True, Peggy," came from Harriet brokenly. "True." "Peggy," cried Clifford in astonishment. "Such words from you who are the soul of honor? You would not ask me to do this."