"Stephen," she said at length. "What are you thinking of me?" "I--Why?--That is a sudden question. Do you mean complimentary or critical?" "I mean this. Have you misjudged my relations with John Anderson?" "I have thought in my mind----" he began, and stopped. Marjorie started. The voice was quiet enough but significant in tone. "Please tell me," she pleaded. "I must know." "Well, I have thought that you have been unusually attentive to him." "Yes." "And that, perhaps, you do care for him,--just a little." There! It was out. She had guessed aright. "I thought as much," she said quietly. "Then why did you ask me?" "Listen," she began. "Do you recall the night you asked me to be of some service to you?" "Perfectly." "I have thought over that subject long and often. I wondered wherein that service could lie. During the night of Peggy's affair it dawned upon me that this stranger to whom I was presented, might be more artful than honest. I decided to form his acquaintance so that I might learn his identity, together with his mission in the city. I cherished the ambition of drawing certain information from him; and this I felt could be accomplished only by an assumed intimacy with him." Stephen stopped suddenly. His whole person was tense and magnetic as he stared at her. "Marjorie!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean it?" "Truly. I read his character from the first. His critical attitude displeased me. But I had to pretend. I had to." "Please! Please forgive me." He turned and seized suddenly both her hands. "I thought,--I thought,--I cannot say it. Won't you forgive me?" Her eyes dropped. She freed her hands. "Then I tricked you as well," she exclaimed with a laugh. "And you mean it? I am made very happy today, happier than words can express. What loyalty! You have been helping me all the time and I never knew it. Why did you not tell me this before?" "You never gave me leave. I wanted to talk to you so much, and you seemed to forbid me.... I prayed for an opportunity, and none came." "I am very sorry." "Anderson interested me only in this,--he came into our society for a very definite purpose, the nature of which I was most desirous of learning. I know now that he is not of our faith, although he pretends to be. He is not of French extraction, yet he would lead one to assume that he was. He is a British officer and actively engaged in the service of the enemy. At present the recruiting of the proposed regiment of Catholic Volunteers for service with the enemy is his immediate work. He hopes to find many displeased and disloyal members of our kind. Them he would incorporate into a company of deserters." "You have learned that from him?" "Aye! And more. General Arnold has been initiated into the scheme. I do not know what to think except that he has yielded to some influence. His antipathy toward us would require none, nevertheless I feel that some undue pressure has been brought to bear upon him." "Anderson?" he asked.