with you long ere this."

Washington looked at me steadily, without showing by the movement of a
muscle that he had heard.

"And I promise you, Lieutenant Stewart," he continued, as though there
had been no interruption, "that I shall be happy to act as your second,
once this campaign is closed."

My cheeks flushed again, this time with pleasure, and I picked up my
scabbard and sent my blade home.

"I must beg you to excuse me, Lieutenant Allen," I said. "Colonel
Washington says right. My sword is not my own until we have met the
French. Then I shall be only too pleased to conclude the argument."

Allen's lips curved in a disdainful smile.

"I thought you would be somewhat less eager to vindicate the courage of
Virginia once you had pause for reflection," he sneered. "Provincials are
all of a kind, and the breed is not a choice one."

I bit my lips to keep back the angry retort which leaped to them, and I
saw Washington's hand trembling on his sword. It did me good to see that
even he maintained his calmness only by an effort.

"Oh, come, Allen," cried Pennington, "you go too far. There can be no
question of Lieutenant Stewart's courage. He was ready enough to meet
you, God knows! Colonel Washington is right, our swords belong to the
king while he has work for them," and the young fellow, with flushed