conscience--for me! I could not doubt this as a truth; I had probed
deeply enough to be assured there was personal interest, friendliness,
inspiring the sacrifice. She would never have lifted a hand to save a
Yankee spy; all her sympathy was with the Confederacy. Yet she was
risking all--her reputation, her life--to save me! The knowledge seemed
to send fire through my veins, my heart throbbed fiercely. Oh, she could
dissemble, could pretend all this was merely duty, could rage against
herself and me, but nevertheless I understood--she was doing it for me!
I knew, and she should know--yes, this very night, out yonder in the
shadows, when we were alone together I would make her realize what it
all meant. Le Gaire? What cared I for Le Gaire! This was Love and War
combined, and all is fair in either. Besides, it was the girl who
counted, who must say the final word--why should I hesitate for the sake
of Le Gaire? Let him fight for himself; surely the prize was worth
the battle.

Her hand waved; I could catch the glimmer of the white sleeve, and
recognized it as a signal. With a dozen steps I was at the entrance to
the arbor, crouching down low in the shadows. As noiseless as a ghost
she sped across the open space, and joined me. I could feel her form
tremble as I touched her, and she caught my arm with both hands, her
face turned backward.

"They are relieving guard," she faltered, "and will come past here next,
for there is a sentry on the opposite side. We must get farther down
under the vines."

I drew her forward, for she clung to me strangely, as though all the
courage and strength had suddenly deserted her.