"I told you what to do," she interrupted his thought and finished it for him. "I told you to join Anderson. I told you to go to New York and make overtures to General Clinton. That's what you should do. Seek respect and power and honor for your old age."

"That I shall not do. Washington loves me and my people will not desert me to my enemies. The court-martial is the thing."

The Loyalist — Part 159

He turned and again sought his chair. She arose to assist him into it.

The Loyalist — Part 159

"I wonder who that fellow could be! He knew it all."

The Loyalist — Part 159

"No. I have seen no one who could report to me. The details were missing."

"Did you ever stop to think of the spy in the garden?"

"That was the man, I am sure. You know his body has not been found, and if I am not mistaken, it was present at that meeting hall."

"We shall learn of his identity. We shall learn."

He again dozed off while she watched him. For several minutes they sat in this manner until she stole out of the room and left him alone. Soon he was wrapped in the arms of a gentle slumber. Some time later she aroused him.

A fortnight later there came to the Allison home a messenger from Stephen in the person of Sergeant Griffin. He appeared at the doorway just as the shroud of eventide was being enfolded about the landscape, changing its hues of green and gray to the more somber ones of blue or purple; just at the time when the indoor view of things is about to be made apparent only by the artificial beams of the tallow and dip.

"Hail!" he said; "I have business with Matthew Allison."

"From Stephen?" Marjorie asked with evident interest.

"Oh!" exclaimed Marjorie. Plainly she was relieved at the nature of the message. Then she turned.

"I am coming directly," cried Mr. Allison from the rear.

She had clear forgotten to invite the sergeant into the room, so absorbed was she in the nature of the business at hand. Expectancy breeds cowardice. When great issues are at stake every act wears an awful meaning. For this reason she stood transfixed at the threshold, before this unexpected arrival, whom she associated with the image of Stephen. With the sudden and delightful lessening of her anxiety, however, she bethought herself.

"Won't you come in? It was stupid of me not to have asked you before."