“What in the world ails you to-night, Peg?” he demanded heatedly. “One would think that you had been affronted. We all ride together to town. There is some business to transact.”

To this Peggy made no answer; but George, though he could make her out but dimly, knew that she was riding on with head held high, and he also felt sure that her eyes—if one could but have had a glimpse of them—bore the proud look that he had seen in them more than once before.

When they reached the line of defenses that ran westward from Corlear’s Hook, a voice challenged them out of the darkness. Lieutenant Camp rode forward to answer; and no sooner had he vanished than George felt Peggy’s horse press closer to his side.

“Sir,” she said hurriedly, in a low voice,[126] “I must beg of you not to ride into town with us.”

[126]

“I don’t understand,” said the young man.

“It is plain that you do not,” she returned, “or you would not be so willing to go.”

He considered for a moment, his eyes trying to search her face.

“Perhaps,” said he, “you could make it clear if you had the mind.”

“It may be so,” she answered. “But I cannot do so. Even in warning you so far I fear I am doing wrong. Nevertheless you have twice been of service to me, and it’s only a poor return to tell you that you are in danger.”

“Danger!” He laughed a little. “In times like these, one is constantly in danger.”

“But not such danger as this.” He felt her hand touch his arm and noted that it was trembling. “There are some dangers that a person of courage can face and overcome. But this——” and her voice trailed away into an unintelligible quaver.

George was about to make answer when they heard the clup-clup of horses’ hoofs and the voice of Lieutenant Camp calling:

“All’s well. You may come forward.”

[127]The girl bent toward George imploringly.

[127]

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