“You did not?”

“No.”

“You have the worst memory of any man in Maryland.”

“That may be.”

“Did you, when we met last evening—”

“We didn’t meet last evening,” interposed the major.

“You have a most astonishing memory. I denounced you as a traitor.”

“It wasn’t kind of you to do that,” laughed Riggleston.

“Perhaps not; but it was true. You didn’t know what I meant; you hadn’t the least knowledge of the affair at the Hasbrouk house?”

“Of course not, over there!”

The major took off his cap and scratched his head. The act seemed suddenly to vivify his memory.

“O, I do remember meeting you last night,” said he.

“Very good; I have some hope of you, at last. Now, can you recall the event to which I alluded?”

“Perfectly.”

“That you, in connection with Miss Hasbrouk, attempted to procure my capture by the rebels?”

“I acknowledge the soft impeachment; but the affair is susceptible of a different construction from that you put on it.”

“I think not.”

“Upon my word it is, my dear fellow. I intend to prove it, and I am sure you will agree with me.”

“First, will you explain to me how you happen to be in this ravine, at this hour of the night, and when we are on the eve of a great battle?” asked Somers.

“I could explain it to your undoubted satisfaction, my dear captain; but you must excuse me for the present.”

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