“Why have you left the room and your father’s guests?” inquired Mark.
“My father’s guests!” Lucy turned upon him a look of scorn.
“They are all your father’s friends, are they not?”
“They are his enemies,” returned the girl, “and well you know it, Mark Harwood.”
“I am sorry to hear you say that,” said Mark, “because you know that I——”
“I also know you to be his enemy,” flashed the young lady.
“Lucy!” his voice was filled with injured surprise.
“Oh, don’t use that tone to me! It does not deceive me for a moment. You are a king’s man—a Tory—a spy of Cornwallis. Even at this moment you are here in the British general’s pay, to collect any evidence that may be injurious to my poor father.”
“You are mistaken, Lucy. You do me an injustice. It is true that I am loyal to the king——”
“Yes, and to prove your loyalty you place yourself at the head of a band of men who would be a disgrace to the most barbarous country; they kill, burn, and destroy the lives and possessions of inoffensive persons, and you take pride in it, Mark Harwood; your boasts have reached my ears, even here!”