young officer's side; "you surely will not clap him into jail?"

"It was my purpose," said Oliver, looking from one to the other, "to
confine you until to-morrow and then carry you to headquarters, where
General Putnam will determine your ultimate fate. I certainly recognize
you as the author of this cut on my head. Do you belong to the British
army or are you a volunteer accompanying Tryon in his raid upon our
innocent and unoffending neighbors at Fairfield?"

"Sir," said the other haughtily, "I pardon much to your youthful
patriotism, which looks upon us as invaders. My name is Geoffrey Yorke,
and I have the honor to bear his majesty's commission as captain in the
Sixty-fourth Regiment of Foot."

Betty gave a faint exclamation. Oliver Wolcott stepped forward.

"Captain Yorke," he said, "I regret more than I can say my inability,
which you yourself will recognize, to bid you go forth free and in
safety. My duty is unfortunately but too plain. I, sir, serve the
Continental Congress, and like you hold a captain's commission. I should
be false alike to my country and my oath of allegiance did I permit you
to escape; but there is one favor I can offer you; give me your parole,
and allow me and my family the pleasure of holding you as a guest, not
prisoner, while under our roof."

Geoffrey Yorke hesitated; he opened his lips to speak, when some
instinct made him glance at Betty, who stood directly behind her
brother. Her large, soft eyes were fixed on his with most beseeching
warning, and she raised her dainty finger to her lips as she slowly,
almost imperceptibly, shook her head.