"I thought so. I am fond of danger, I have told you. It braces me
up; it--why are you so pale?"

"You have been kind to me, and you have saved me from indignity.
Pray take your men away at once."

"They will not go, and I will not desert them."

"For my sake--do!"

"A song! a song! No more love-making tonight, Captain. A song from
the farmer's pretty lass!" cried out the men.

And then Sophie began to sing again, this time a love-song, the
song of a maiden waiting for her soldier boy to come back from
the wars; a maiden waiting for him, listening for him, hearing the
tramp of his regiment on the way toward her. She looked at Captain
Guy as she sang, and with much entreaty in her gaze, and he looked
back at her from under the cock of his hat, which he had pulled over
his brows; then he wavered and stole out of the room. Kits was at
the door, still with his mug of brandy in his hand. Guy seized him
by the ear and took him out with him into the fresh air, where the
white frost was and where the white moon was shining now.

"The soldiers are after us and know where we are, Kits. Pitch that
stuff away."

"Not if--"