"Captain McElroy," he said when we were seated and alone, "Colonel Forbes has prematurely made you an offer we have been contemplating for some days, and in regard to which I was authorized to sound you. We have good reason to believe there is an officer in the rebel ranks well affected to our cause; we need some one who can freely communicate with him—if you will consent to help us, a captain's commission in the British army, with promise of speedy promotion, and any sum of ready money you may name is yours. Only sign this paper, and the compact is closed."
I took the paper he handed me, opened and read it, then rose to my feet, and slowly tore it into bits, throwing them, as I did so, into the fire.
"You Have Evidently Mistaken Me for a Villain."
"Captain Forsythe," I said, while my hand and my voice shook with the strain I put upon myself to control my anger, "you and others have evidently mistaken me for a villain of that low and despicable type capable of treason to his country. For the present I condone the insult for the sake of other British officers who have seemed to consider me a man of honor. I bid you good night, sir," and reaching for cloak and hat, I hastened into the street, where the freshness and purity of the early morning air and the calming message of the steadfast stars—shining on in their clear, soft beauty, whether men pray and sleep like Christians, or dice and plot, and drink like devils, on the changeful earth beneath them—cooled my fevered brow, and helped me to restrain a seething desire to take violent vengeance upon my insulter. But I realized clearly the foolhardiness of such course, and moreover the ingratitude and disrespect to my friends it would seem to imply.