"Are you not?" and she rose in her stirrups. "I am sure they are cavalrymen. Now you can see clearly as they climb the hill."
"There is no doubt," he admitted, "a single troop ahead of the main body; the others will be beyond the bend in the stream."
He stepped back, where he could look directly into her face.
"They are soldiers all right, but that was not what I wanted to be so certain about. When we ride down there, Molly girl, we shall be swallowed up into the old life once more, the old army life."
"Yes."
"Perhaps you do not realize how different it will all be from out here alone together."
"Why should it be different?"
"I shall be again a soldier in the ranks, under orders, and you Major McDonald's daughter."
"But—but—" her eyes full of appeal.
"No, little girl," he explained quickly, reaching up and touching her gently; "we are never going to say anything about that to those down there—his comrades in arms. It is going to be our secret. I am glad you told me; it has brought us together as, perhaps, nothing else could, but there is no reason why the world should ever know. Let them think he died defending his trust. Perhaps he did; what you overheard might have been said for a purpose, but, even if it were true, he had been driven to it by a merciless woman. It is ours to defend, not blacken his memory."