"I fear you have misjudged her," the Doctor continued. "A purer, truer woman never drew the breath of life. In word or act or thought she has never been disloyal to you. I said a moment ago that I loved her, but it is more than that—it is the worship that a man gives to a woman as far above him as the stars."
"In that case," said Howard, in a hoarse whisper, "you are well fitted to protect her."
"You still offer me that trust?" asked the other, eagerly.
The answer was scarcely audible. "I do."
Their eyes met in a long look of keen scrutiny on one side, and of fearless honesty upon the other. Then Norton extended his hand. The Lieutenant grasped it, caught his breath quickly, then turned away, for once the master of himself.
Beatrice came out of the Captain's house and smiled at him as he stood there with his head bowed. "You're—you're out early," he said, with an effort.
"I couldn't sleep. It was hot, and—Cousin Ralph, you must tell me. I am not a child, to be kept in the dark. What is this horrible thing that seems to be hovering over us? Uncle John does not speak to any one; twice yesterday I found Aunt Eleanor crying; Cousin Rob and Mr. Ronald are not in the least like themselves; Kit and Mrs. Franklin are as pale as ghosts, and you—I saw you walking here all night. What does it mean? Tell me!"
"We fear attack," he answered sharply.
"Indians or British?"
"Indians—under British orders."