At last she came and stood before me. In her eyes were great pain and fear and suffering.
"Tell me," she asked anxiously, "is there any danger for him?"
"More danger for me than for him," I replied. "The whole American advance guard consists of three men and myself; the rest will follow in the morning."
"Ah," she cried, and there was hope once more in her voice; "then we can escape."
"If you can move your father by sunrise, yes," I replied.
"But you," she said, and there was new anxiety in her voice; "you are in great danger here. When the soldiers come to remove father they will take you prisoner."
"I care not, Mistress Jean," I answered, "for your eyes have held me prisoner for many a long day, and all the prison bars in the world are nothing to me so long as I can look into them."
"Nay," she said, "you must not say such things to me."
And I, taking this as a confirmation of all my fears and that at last Farquharson had succeeded in his suit, would have bade her good-bye and gone my way. But before I went I told her of my wishes for her happiness, and that I had met Farquharson and knew of his skill and courage.
"Farquharson?" and her eyes were wide open in surprise. "I really believe you think I am going to marry him;" and she laughed so softly, bewitchingly, that—