"You would say 'notorious,'" I rejoined, smiling.
He protested vigorously:
"No! no! I understand you are not of our party, but, believe me, were I a—a—patriot, as they say, I should be proud to hear a comrade utter the words you uttered in 'Governor's Hall'!"
"Did I say I was a rebel?" I asked, laughing.
"Well," he rejoined, "if that speech did not commit you, we are but a dull company here in Pittsburg."
He glanced after his comrades, who were now entering the canopied space where refreshments lay piled between the bottles and punch-bowls; and he straightway invited me, turning with a bow to include Jack Mount, whom I had not dared present under his proper name.
Mount began to accept with a flourish, but I cut him short with excuses, which Mr. Bevan accepted politely, expressing his regret. Then again he offered me his hand so frankly that I drew him aside, and begged his indulgence and forgetfulness for my boorish behaviour at Johnson Hall.
"The fault was mine," he said, instantly; "I sneered at your militia and deserved your rebuke. Had I not deserved it, I should have called you out, Mr. Cardigan."
"You conducted properly," said I; "on the contrary, I must blush for my churlishness when you favoured my hilt with a ribbon."
His friendly eyes grew grave, and he began bending his hunting-whip into a bow, thoughtfully studying the buttercups at his feet.