“And I never will!” cried the girl. “I wish nothing to do with traitors.”
She shook off his detaining hand and fled down the deck.
“What shall I do?” she asked herself. “I cannot betray my country’s plans—and yet Lord Hastings should be told of this treachery.”
She paced up and down the deck for almost an hour; then she sought an interview with the commander of the Sylph.
“Lord Hastings,” she said, “suppose a person knew something that, if he told, would defeat the plans of the country he calls his own—and suppose also that in gaining such information he learned that treachery would encompass the defeat of his enemy—should he tell or not?”
“It all depends,” replied Lord Hastings, “upon the person’s conscience. Some would say yes, and some no. I cannot tell what I should do under the circumstances. But why do you ask?”
The girl was silent for a long time.
“I have such information,” she declared at length; “and I do not know what to do.”
Lord Hastings rose hastily from his seat, approached and laid his hand upon her arm.
“Say no more,” he said. “I know that which you have on your mind.”