"Not to the British camp, if possible, I pray you," she replied, while beginning to weep freely.
"I dare not be absent long," said I; "my duty leads me there, and by straggling, or loitering here——"
"True—true, ah, mon Dieu! how selfish of me! you risk your life, perhaps, at the hands of our exasperated peasantry."
"Madam, I risk my life daily for a trooper's pay," said I, smiling: "so freely may I peril it for one so—so lovely as you."
She coloured at this reply, and drew back, on which I added, with a low bow, while my cheek reddened also—
"Pardon me—I forget myself."
"This is not the bearing or the language of an English private soldier," said she, approaching me again, placing her pretty hand upon my arm, and looking pleadingly in my face.
"Madam, though but a simple soldat—un Ecossais Gris, I am a gentleman, and have never done aught to disgrace my name."
"Then you will protect me, sir, will you not?"
"As I have already done, at the peril of my life."