"Yes, you must," I insisted, "you can never believe I would leave you because of personal fear."
"I did not know—at first. Now I realize it will require a higher motive to influence you; not love of life, but love of country."
I felt the closer clasp of her fingers on my guiding hand, and knew I took a deep breath of surprise.
"Lean your head just a little closer," she whispered. "I—I know you, Major Lawrence, and—and I wish you well."
How I kept to the measure I cannot now imagine, for, in an instant, all my house of cards crumbled into nothingness. She knew me, this blue-eyed girl; knew me, and sought to aid my mission, this daughter of a loyalist, this lady of the Blended Rose. It was inconceivable, and yet a fact—my name had been whispered by her lips.
Suddenly she looked up laughing, as though to make others feel that we conversed lightly. We passed Grant, even as I held my breath, almost afraid to venture with words. Yet they would not be restrained.
"You certainly startled me; how do you know this? Surely we have never met before?"
"I refuse to be questioned, sir; it means nothing how I know—the fact that I do should be sufficient."
"But Mistress Claire—"
"Rather Mistress Mortimer."