"The insult was one which could not be passed over, Colonel Washington,"
I answered, as I saluted him. "It was not to myself only, but to all the
Virginia troops who serve his Majesty."
"So," sneered Allen, "'t is the hero of Fort Necessity! I can well believe him averse to fighting."
My cheeks were hot with anger and I saw Washington flush darkly, but he gazed at Allen coldly, and his voice was calm as ever when he spoke.
"It shall be my privilege at some future time," he said, "to call the gentleman to account for his words. At present, my sword is pledged to the king and may be drawn in no other service, more especially not in my own. I trust, Lieutenant Stewart, you will have the courage to sheathe your blade."
I hesitated. It was a hard thing to ask a man to do.
"Yes, put up your sword!" cried Allen scornfully. "Allow yourself to be reproved like a naughty boy by this hero who knows only how to retreat. On my soul, 't was well he arrived when he did. I should have finished with you long ere this."
Washington looked at me steadily, without showing by the movement of a muscle that he had heard.
"And I promise you, Lieutenant Stewart," he continued, as though there had been no interruption, "that I shall be happy to act as your second, once this campaign is closed."
My cheeks flushed again, this time with pleasure, and I picked up my scabbard and sent my blade home.
"I must beg you to excuse me, Lieutenant Allen," I said. "Colonel
Washington says right. My sword is not my own until we have met the
French. Then I shall be only too pleased to conclude the argument."