"Had you not better take a glass of milk?" she said. "You may have to
travel far without food, although I am sure that should you ask for it
at any of our Connecticut farmhouses you would be cheerfully supplied,"
and raising the neat dipper she filled it and handed it to Geoffrey, who
took it gratefully from her hand.

"And now put on your boots, for freedom lies beyond that door," she
said, still in softest tones, as she unbolted the other door which led
directly outside. "I must go with you as far as the barn, for you will
need my mare to take you out of danger of pursuit."

"No, no," answered Geoffrey, speaking for the first time as they sped
rapidly over the grass, "I will not take her; you have dared much for
me, and I fear censure and harm may come to you for releasing me should
you be discovered."

"Censure," said Betty, throwing back her small head haughtily,
"wherefore? Do you think I shall conceal my share in this night's work?
Oliver is but a hot-headed boy; had my father been at home it would have
been different, and to him I shall make my confession, that I have
given liberty to--oh, I cannot say a foe, after what you have done for
me--to a British officer who comes to slay my countrymen!"

"Never your foe, Betty," cried Yorke, confronting her with face as pale
as her own, and in his admiration of her spirit and nobility forgetting
all else. "Say, rather, your adoring friend, who one day, God willing,
hopes to prove to you that there are British hearts which are true and
honest as yours, and that none will be more loyal to you than mine own."