"Oh," she said, and she stamped her tiny foot, "if you were only not a rebel!"
"But even rebels have their uses."
Thus it was we became good friends in spite of the traitor stamped upon my brow. Ere I knew it, the time approached when I had to mount and ride. But before I left, her soft hand rested for a moment in mine.
"We march in a few days," said I, "to the North, to the Leaguer of Boston. There will be fighting there and bloody work. Can I not carry a single token?"
Her nimble fingers flew to her hair, and took from thence a blood-red rose, and pinned it to my coat.
"There," said she, "my red cockade;" and turning quickly, she ran into the house.