In reassuming my proper American character I had forgotten that I still wore the British garb.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked, quickly and keenly.
"I wish to take them a message," I replied.
"Who are you, and what are you?" she asked, abruptly, turning upon me a look before which my eyes fell,—"you whose garb is English and speech American."
"Whatever I am at other times," I replied, "to-night I am your servant only."
"Then," she replied, in a voice that thrilled me, "come with me. I ride to warn the Americans that they are threatened with destruction."
"You!" I exclaimed, my surprise growing. "You warn them! You, the most bitter of Tories, as bitter as only a woman can be!"
She laughed a laugh that was half of triumph, half of scorn.
"I have deceived you too, as I have deceived all the others," she said. "But I should not boast. The part was not difficult, and I despised it. Come! we will waste no more time. Ride with me to the American army, if you are what you have just boasted yourself to be."
Her voice was that of command, and I had no mind to disobey it.