My Lady of Doubt | Page 9

She smiled, a flood of color coming back into the clear cheeks, as she
drew slightly away.
"I appreciate that, sir," frankly, shaking out her ruffled skirts, "and you
have made knighthood real."
"Then," I ventured, "may I hope to receive the reward, fair lady?"
She laughed, a little tremor of nervousness in the sound, but her eyes
full of challenge.

"And what is that?"
"Your name; the hope of better acquaintance."
Her eyes swept my uniform questioningly.
"You are not of the garrison?"
"No; a courier just arrived from New York."
"Yet an officer; surely then you will be present to-night?"
"The privilege is mine; if sufficiently tempted I may attend."
"Tempted! How, sir?"
"By your pledging me a dance."
She laughed again, one hand grasping the long silken skirt.
"You ask much--my name, a better acquaintance, a dance--all this for
merely saving me from a mob. You are not a modest knight, I fear.
Suppose I refuse?"
"Then am I soldier enough to come unasked, and win my welcome."
"I thought as much," the long lashes opening up to me the depths of the
blue eyes. "I promise nothing then, nor forbid. But there is Captain
Grant seeking me. If I do not speak of gratitude, it is nevertheless in my
heart, sir," she swept me a curtsey, to which I bowed hat in hand, "and
now, Au revoir."
I stood as she left me, staring while she crossed the lawn and joined a
dark-faced officer of Rangers. Once she glanced back over her shoulder,
and then disappeared in the crowd of revellers.
CHAPTER IV
THE MISCHIANZA

I had not intended to remain in Philadelphia through the night. Already
I had secured the information sought, and now must consider the safest
and quickest method of escape. It seemed to me this night, given up to
revelry, afforded the best possible opportunity for my safely passing
the British guard-lines. To-morrow discipline would be resumed, the
soldiers would return to their posts and the citizens of the city would
again appear on the streets. This would greatly intensify my danger, for,
at any moment, I might encounter some one who knew me, who might
denounce me to the authorities.
That this was the exact truth of the situation could not be denied, yet,
now, every reckless impulse of my disposition urged me to remain; the
invitation of those laughing blue eyes, the challenge I read in the lady's
fair face, the unsolved mystery of her identity, all combined in a
temptation I found it impossible to resist. As I rode slowly northward,
out of the denser crowd into the almost deserted streets, the shades of
evening already closing about me, the memory of the girl I had
encountered so strangely, and parted with so suddenly, became more
and more alluring, more and more vivid. My thoughts dwelt upon the
arch face, the red lips, smiling to reveal the white teeth, the flushing
cheeks, the mass of soft brown hair revealed beneath the turban, the
mocking laughter in the depths of the blue eyes, and the straight, lithe
figure, as she moved swiftly away to rejoin her friends. Who was she,
this lady of the Blended Rose? this girl with the dignity of rank, and the
carelessness of youth? I must know the answer; it was not in young
blood to run away. Certain facts regarding her were at least clear
already--she must be the daughter of a loyalist, or else related to some
of the English officers; her very presence proved this, while her
selection as one of the ladies of honor, was evidence of high standing
socially. And she had dared me, challenged me with her eyes, to remain,
and learn more. There was no promise, no word spoken I could
construe into a pledge, and yet there was invitation, a suggestion, vague
but comprehended, which youth could not easily ignore. My veins
throbbed with anticipation--already was my arm about the slender waist,
my eyes looking into her own. For a dance with her, a possible
understanding, I was willing to venture life itself.

I turned about and glanced at the Dragoon riding behind, half tempted
to question him, but I refrained, not willing to make her the subject of
camp-fire gossip. It would be a more manly course to work this out
myself, and surely I should meet officers at the ball who would gladly
present me to the lady. I should be compelled to attend in field uniform,
yet circumstances would excuse that, and what little I had seen of her
convinced me she was no stickler for conventionality. The duty soldier
was more apt to interest such a personality than any dandy on dress
parade. With a word I dismissed my companion, and turned in to the
camp of