"Come," I cried, "I will prove my words."
"I know the way," she replied. "I will be the guide."
We galloped away side by side. Many thoughts were flying through my head. I understood the whole story at once, or thought I did, which yielded not less of satisfaction to me. She was not the Tory she had seemed to be, any more than I was the Briton whose uniform I had taken. Why she had assumed such a rôle it was not hard to guess. Well, I was glad of it. My spirits mounted to a wonderful degree, past my ability to account for such a flight. But I bothered myself little about it. Another time would serve better for such matters.
The hoof-beats rang on the flinty road, and our horses stretched out their necks as our pace grew swifter and we fled on through the night.
"How far do we ride?" I asked.
"The American encampment is four miles beyond," she said. "The British force is coming down on the right. Pray God we may get there in time!"
"Amen!" said I. "But, if we do not, it will not be for lack of haste."
We passed a cottage close by the roadside. The clatter of our horses' hoofs aroused its owner, for in those troublous times men slept lightly. A night-capped head was thrust out of a window, and I even noted the look of wonderment on the man's face; but we swept by, and the man and his cottage were soon lost in the darkness behind us.
"It will take something more than that to stop us to-night," I cried, in the exuberance of my spirits.
Miss Desmond's face was bent low over her horses neck, and she answered me not; but she raised her head and gave me a look that showed the courage a true woman sometimes has.