"Yes, in the last week! Do you think I am blind? Do you suppose I don't know what has changed your mind so suddenly? Do you imagine I'm going to let you go for the sake of a damned Yankee?"
She fairly gasped in surprise, her fingers clinched, her cheeks flaming.
"A Yankee! Captain Le Gaire, are you crazy?"
"No," his temper bursting all control. "That's what's the matter with you. Oh, of course, you'll deny, and pretend to be horrified. I saw into your little game then, but I kept still; now you are carrying it too far."
"What do you mean? I am not accustomed to such language."
"I mean this: You think you are in love with that sneaking Yankee spy--I don't know his name--the fellow you helped through our lines, and then hid at Moran's. Now don't deny it; I asked some questions before I left there, and you were with him out under the grape arbor. I saw the imprint of your feet in the soft dirt. By God, I believe you knew he struck me, and permitted me to lie there while he got away."
"Captain Le Gaire--"
"Now you wait; this is my turn to talk. You thought you had fooled me, but you had not. Under other conditions I might accede to your request, but not now--not to give you over to a Yank. I've got your promise, and I propose to hold you to it."
"But it is not that," she protested. "I--I am not in love with Lieutenant Galesworth."
"So that is the fellow's name, is it--Galesworth," sneeringly. "I thought you pretended before you did not know."