“And that,” he went on steadily without noticing the interruption, “I would not do, even for you.”
“That forever settles my last doubt of thee,” declared Peggy with an attempt at sprightliness. “I know that thee is willing to do almost anything for me.”
“Yes,” he replied. “And now I must go.”
“Shall I see thee again before I leave, John?”
“When do you start?”
“In the morning. I waited to-day to see thee.”
“Then it must be good-bye now,” he said. “I am to carry some despatches to General Marion on the morrow, and that will take us far apart, Peggy. I asked for the mission; for I must have action at the present time. I like not to think.”
“Don’t be too venturesome,” pleaded the girl. “We who know thee have no need of valiant deeds to prove thy merit.”
“I want a chance to distinguish myself,” declared the lad. “That, and to prove my loyalty too. All of General Arnold’s old men will be regarded with suspicion until they show that they are true. And now good-bye, Peggy.”
“Good-bye, John,” spoke the maiden sorrowfully. “Thee carries my sympathy and prayers with thee.”