Jack flushed hotly. He was young—not half the age of the man who was addressing him—and he lacked the easy assurance that the other had gained by years of experience in the great world. Bitterly he resented Captain Brito’s tones, but he tried to keep himself in check. He must uphold the blood of the American Telfairs but he must not play the boor before this fashionable cousin of his.
“Your pardon, sir!” he said, deliberately, “but to whom have I the honor of speaking.” In his voice was an uncontrollable catch, born of excitement.
Captain Brito stared. “Well! I’m d—d,” he exclaimed, laughing shortly. “If the fellow doesn’t take himself seriously! Come! My good man; I haven’t time for nonsense. Where is the girl?”
Jack met his eyes squarely. His agitation was dying away and his nerves were momently steadying. “First, you will please to answer my question,” he said. “Who are you?”
A snarl curled Captain Brito’s lips, and his breath quickened a little. “Damnation!” he began. Then he caught himself up. Jack’s eyes were chill, and the captain apparently decided that compliance would quickest gain his ends.
“I am Captain Count Telfair,” he said, “of His Majesty’s Forty-First Foot. Now, sir, your news!” He drew out a purse. “You will be well paid for it,” he finished contemptuously.
Jack paid no attention to the last words. His flush had faded and his cheeks were very white. “I am Jaqueline Telfair, of Alabama,” he said, deliberately; “and I demand to know the errand that brings a British officer into American territory at this time.”
Captain Brito’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Well! I’m cursed,” he gasped. Then, with a sudden change of tone, he went on: “Can it be possible that I have chanced upon my American cousin? Yes! Yes! Now that you tell me, I do see the family features. We have ever run close to type, we Telfairs; even in America”—Captain Brito grunted—“you have kept the likeness. I’m glad to meet you, cousin!” He held out his hand.
Jack took it. But his face did not lighten. “And I you,” he said courteously, but not enthusiastically. “As a kinsman I am glad to welcome you to America. But as an American I am obliged to repeat my question. What are you, a British officer, doing here in Ohio?”
Captain Brito shrugged his shoulders. “Egad!” he said. “You are”—he paused; a startled expression came upon his face. “Has war been declared?” he demanded, eagerly.