"Marjorie," he said, "you promised to be of whatever assistance you could. Do you recall that promise?" "Very well." "Will you lend your assistance to me now?" She hesitated, wondering to what extent the demand might be made. "Are you unwilling?" he asked, for he perceived her timid misgiving. "No. What is it you want me to do?" "Simply this. Let me have this note." She deliberated. "Would not that be unfair to Peggy?" She feared that her sense of justice was being violated. "She does not know that you have it." "But I mean to tell her." "Please!... Well!... Well!... Need you do that immediately? Could you not let me have it for a few days? I shall return it to you. You can then take it to her." "You will let no one see it?" "Absolutely!" "Very well. And you will return it to me?" "I promise." And so it was agreed that Stephen should take the letter with him, which he promised to return together with the earliest news of the result of his court-martial. He stood up. II Stephen came out the little white gate closing it very deliberately behind him and immediately set off at a brisk pace down the street. Every fiber within him thrilled with energy. The road was dusty and hot, and his pace grew very strenuous and fervent. There was no breeze; there was no sound of wheels; all was quiet as the bells tolled out the hour of six. Nevertheless he trudged along with great haste without once stopping until he had reached the door of his lodgings. He turned the key and entered, closing the door behind him and taking the greatest of care to see that it was properly bolted. Flinging his hat into a chair as he passed, he went immediately to the table which served as his desk. While he pulled himself close to it, he reached into his pocket for the letter. He opened it before him and read it. Then he sat back and read it again; this time aloud: Co. 13 Headquarters, New York. 15 July, 1778. Madame:--I am happy to have this opportunity to once again express my humble respects to you and to assure you that yourself together with your generous and hospitable friends are causing us much concern separated as we are by the duress of a merciless war. We lead a monotonous life, for outside of the regularities of army life, there is little to entertain us. Our hearts are torn with pangs of regret as we recall the golden days of the Mischienza. I would I could be of some service to you here, that you may understand that my protestations of zeal made on former occasions were not without some degree of sincerity. Let me add, too, that your many friends here present unite with me in these same sentiments of unaffected and genuine devotion. I beg you to present my best respects to your sisters, to the Misses Chew, and to Mrs. Shippen and Mrs. Chew. I have the honor to be with the greatest regard, Madame, your most obedient and most humble servant.