All that day I kept close to the house, for I did not dare to venture forth in the broad day, as I was known to many, and it would not have gone well with me if I had met with those I knew. But at last the night began to fall, and, bidding my kind hostess good-bye, I made my way through the streets to the Tory's house. I soon found it--a square brick structure in a quiet street. I noticed, as I approached it, several dark alleys just at the right places for a rapid retreat if the worse should come to the worst. Then my hand was on the knocker, and its fall startled me as the clatter echoed far down the street and seemed to wake the very dead. A slave opened the door, who, though he glanced at me suspiciously, told me that his mistress was at home. Then in a moment my storm-coat was off, and I stood in the door of the drawing-room. It was a beautiful picture, the great strong Highlander on his knees at the feet of Mistress Jean begging for her hand, which she seemed to be denying him, for he was growing more and more passionate. For a moment, as I stood there, I could feel my hair grow gray, but the tumult and the conflict within me were short and I turned to go, for it seemed to me that she could not but care for so gallant a gentleman. But her eyes met mine, and then for a moment there was terror in them, and a cry broke forth from her lips. Farquharson, startled by her gaze, turned also, and, seeing me, was quickly on his feet, his face aflame with passion. "Sir," said he, advancing toward me, "do you not know the fate of eavesdroppers"--and then for the first time noticing my uniform, added, "and spies?" "I know the fate of those who call a gentleman by such names," I retorted coolly. "A gentleman?" and he laughed. "I will have you hanged for a dog of a spy before sunrise." "Pardon me, sir, but you are my prisoner until it shall suit me to let you go free." At this he laughed merrily. "Well said, Sir Rebel," he cried; "but permit me to pass before I spit you on my sword." And he drew and advanced upon me. "Permit me, sir, to use another argument;" and I drew my pistol and covered him. "Advance another step and I will blow your brains out." He glanced at me for a moment, but did not advance. "And further, let me suggest that we are in the presence of a lady, and it is not seemly for her to see the flash of weapons." At this he put up his sword. "To whom do I owe a lesson in gallantry?" he asked with a low and sweeping bow. "James Frisby, of Fairlee, a Lieutenant in the Maryland Line," I replied with equal courtesy. Mistress Jean had stood as though she were turned to stone during our exchange of courtesies, but now she seemed to recover. "Captain Farquharson," she cried, and she came and stood between us, "this is an old friend of mine. He saved my life at the Braes when we were raided by the rebels. You must promise me to let him go free out of the city."