Champe said nothing more; and when the julep appeared on a silver tray, he left the room and went upstairs to where Betty was waiting. “He's awful, there's no use mincing words, he's simply awful,” he remarked in an exhausted voice. “But what does he say? tell me,” questioned Betty, as she moved to a little peaked window which overlooked the lawn. “What doesn't he say?” groaned Champe with his eyes upon her as she stood relieved against the greenish panes of glass. “Do you think I might speak to him?” she persisted eagerly. “My dear girl, do you want to have your head bitten off for your pains? His temper is positively tremendous. By Jove, I didn't know he had it in him after all these years; I thought he had worn it out on dear Aunt Molly. And Beau, by the way, isn't going to be the only one to suffer for his daring, which makes me wish that he had chosen to embrace the saintly instead of the heroic virtues. I confess that I could find it in my heart to prefer less of David and more of Job.” “How can you?” remonstrated Betty. She pressed her hands together and looked wistfully up at him. “But what are you going to do about it?” she demanded. For a moment his eyes dwelt on her. “Betty, Betty, how you care!” he exclaimed. “Care?” she laughed impatiently. “Oh, I care, but what good does that do?” “Would you care as much for me, I wonder?” She smiled up at him and shook her head. “No, I shouldn't, Champe,” she answered honestly. He turned his gaze away from her, and looked through the dim old window panes out upon the clustered elm boughs. “Well, I'll do this much,” he said in a cheerful voice. “I'll ride to the tavern this morning and find out how the land lies there. I'll see Beau, and I'll do my best for him, and for you, Betty.” She put out her hand and touched his arm. “Dear Champe!” she exclaimed impulsively. “Oh, I dare say,” he scoffed, “but is there any message?” “Tell him to come back,” she answered, “to come back now, or when he will.” “Or when he will,” he repeated smiling, and went down to order his horse. At the tavern he found Jack Hicks and a neighbouring farmer or two, seated upon the porch discussing the raid upon Harper's Ferry. They would have drawn him into the talk, but he asked at once for Dan, and upon learning the room in which he lodged, ran up the narrow stair and rapped upon the door. Then, without waiting for a response, he burst into the room with outstretched hand. “Why, they've put you into a tenpin alley,” were his words of greeting. With a laugh Dan sprang up from his chair beside the window. “What on earth are you doing here, old man?” he asked. “Well, just at present I'm trying to pull you out of the hole you've stumbled into. I say, in the name of all that's rational, why did you allow yourself to get into such a scrape?” Dan sat down again and motioned to a split-bottomed chair he had used for a footstool.