She looked steadily into my eyes, but in a moment a light flush swept over her beautiful face.
"May you come back safely, Lieutenant Chester," she said.
"Will you care?" I asked.
"I do care," she replied. I thought I felt her fingers quiver as she gave me her hand, but she withdrew it in an instant, and I came away.
Our vanguard under Wildfoot, with Marcel and me by his side, began the pursuit of the British the next day.
Chapter Twenty-five—The Widow's Might
The troop, led by Wildfoot, numbered not more than fifty horsemen, but all were strong and wiry, and bore themselves in the easy alert manner that betokens experience, and much of it. Moreover, they were well mounted, a point of extreme importance. Marcel and I deemed ourselves fortunate to be included in such a band, and that we were high in the partisan chief's favor, we had good evidence, because before we started he brought us two exceptionally fine horses and bade us exchange our mounts for them, temporarily.
"You must do it, as you are likely to need their speed and strength," he said, when we showed reluctance, for good cavalry horses were worth their weight in silver, at least in those days, and we did not like to take the responsibility of their possible loss.