young un."

"Hush father, she'll hear," said Perez, and opening the door came into
the kitchen.

Desire arose to her feet as he did so, and their eyes met. He would
have known her anywhere, in spite of the nine years since he had seen
her. The small oval of the sparkling gypsy face, the fine features, so
mobile and piquant, he instantly recognized from the portrait painted
in undying colors upon his youthful imagination.

"Are you Captain Hamlin?" she said.

"I hope you remember Perez Hamlin," he answered.

"I remember the name," she replied coldly. "I am told that you command
the--the men"--she was going to say mob--"in the village."

"I believe so," he answered. He was thinking that those red lips of
hers had once kissed his, that August morning when he stood on the
green, ready to march with the minute men.

"My Aunt Woodbridge is very sick. If your men make a noise again in
front of my uncle's house, she will die. I came to--to ask"--she had
to say it--"you to prevent it."

"I will prevent it," said Perez.

Desire dropped an almost imperceptible curtsey, raised the latch of
the door and went out.