cut down the young tobacco plants." I could but stare at her. "There
is a plot to cut down the young tobacco plants as soon as the
governor hath sailed," she said, "and my sister Mary hath sent to
England for arms, knowing that the militia will arise and there will
be fighting."

I still stared at her, not knowing in truth what to say. Then
suddenly she caught at my hands with hers, and cried out with that
energy that I saw all at once the fire of life beneath that fair
show of maiden peace and calm of hers, "Harry, Harry Wingfield, if
my grandmother, Madam Cavendish, knows this, my sister is undone; no
pity will she have. Straight to the governor will she go, though she
hobble on crutches to Jamestown! She would starve ere she would move
against the will of the king and his representative, and so would I,
but I will not have my little sister put to suffering and shame. God
save her, Harry Wingfield, but she might be thrown into prison, and
worse--I pray thee, save her, Harry! Whatever ill you have done,
and however slightingly I have held you for it, I pray you do this
good deed by way of amends, and I will put the memory of your
misdeeds behind me."

Even then my bewilderment at her mention of my misdeeds, when I
verily considered that she, as well as I, knew more of her own, was
strong, but I grasped her two little hands hard, then relinquished
them, and bowed and said, "Madam, I will save your sister at
whatever cost."

"And count it not?" said she.

"No more than I have done before, madam," said I, and maybe with