on the table behind which he sat, "I--that is--I have something to tell
you."

General Wolcott raised his head from the paper which he had been
carefully reading and looked kindly at her.

"What is it, my child?" he asked reassuringly, motioning her to a chair.
"I thought at breakfast that you had the air of being in distress."

"Nay, I am hardly that," replied Betty, clinging to the table, "except
so far as I may have incurred your censure, though I hope not your
displeasure. Father, Oliver has told you of the escape of Captain Yorke,
which causes him much chagrin and anger. Blame no one but me, for I
myself released him."

"You!" exclaimed General Wolcott.

"Yes, I," said Betty, growing paler. "If you had but been here or I
known that you were so near us, there had been no such need for haste,
and I would have been spared this confession."

"How did you arrange the escape?" said her father quietly.

"It was this way," faltered Betty, but gaining courage as she proceeded.
"Oliver would not listen, though I begged and plead with him to delay
until your arrival. He was so eager to deliver his captive to General
Putnam that I made no impression. Father, the Englishman had saved our
Moppet's life at the risk of his own; _he_ did not pause to ask whether
she was friend or foe when he rushed to her rescue--could we he less
humane? I do not know what they do to prisoners,"--and Betty strangled a