I broke the fascinating eyehold and turned slowly to face my fate.
"I do, my Lord."
"Well, what of him? You left him hastening to rejoin with his new loyalist levies, I hope?"
I drew my sword, reversed it and laid it upon the table.
"May all the enemies of the Commonwealth be even as he is, my Lord," I said, quietly.
Now, truly, I had hanged my petard well and 'twas plain the shock of it had gone far to shatter the wall of confidence our enemies had builded on the field of Camden and elsewhere. Had a hand-grenade with the fuse alight been dropped upon the table, the consternation could scarce have been greater. To a man the tableful was up and thronging round me; but above all the hubbub I heard a little cry of misery from the table-foot where my lady sat.
"How is this, sir?—explain yourself!" thundered my Lord, forgetting for once his mild suavity.
"'Tis but a brief tale, and I will make it as crisp as may be in the telling," I replied. "I came upon the major some miles this side of the crossing of the Broad. He was marching to rejoin you, in accordance with his orders. But when he had your Lordship's command to stand and fight, he obeyed."
"My command?—but I gave him no such order!"
"Nay, truly, you did not—neither in the original nor in the duplicate, my Lord. But when we had waylaid Lieutenant Tybee and quenched the duplicate, and had so amended the original as to make it fit our purpose, the brave major thanked you for what you had not done and made his stand to await the upcoming of the over-mountain men."