“Pardon. I think your horse has stolen me! It made me an intruder here quite against my will, I assure you.”
“You will doubtless not honor us by remaining?” There was more seriousness of curiosity in this question than Elizabeth betrayed or Peyton perceived.
“What can I do? I can neither ride nor walk.”
“But your men will probably come for you?”
“I don’t think any saw the horse bear me from the fight. The field was in smoke and darkness. My troops must have pursued the enemy. They’ll 113 think me killed or made prisoner. If they return this way, however, I can have them stop and take me along.”
“Then you expect that, in repayment of your treatment of me awhile ago—” Elizabeth paused.
“Madam, you should allow for the exigencies of war! Yet, if you wish to turn me out—”
Elizabeth interrupted him:
“So it is true that, if you fell into the hands of the British, they would hang you?”
“Doubtless! But you shouldn’t blame me for what they’d do. And how did you know?”