I was holding my temper fairly well, yet my patience was near the breaking point.

“I may as well tell you,” I answered at last, “and my men will corroborate all I say.  We came here under special orders hoping to capture General Johnston, who, we were informed, was quartered here for the night.  We had no other object—­”

“Until you saw Billie.”

I wheeled upon him so fiercely that the fellow took a step backward.

“Captain Le Gaire, you have said enough—­all I shall permit you to say.  Miss Hardy had no connection whatever with this affair.  If it is true that you are engaged to the lady, then you should be defending instead of attacking her.”

“I should hardly come to you for instructions.”

“Then take them from Major Hardy.”

“Oh, hell, Hardy don’t understand.  He’s as blind as a bat, but you cannot pull the wool over my eyes, Mr. Yankee spy.  I’ve seen some of your fine work before.  If I wasn’t a prisoner under guard I’d give you a lesson you’d remember as long as you lived.”

I stood holding my breath, looking at him, scarcely less angry than he, yet outwardly cool.

“You would give me a lesson?”

“I spoke plainly enough, I hope.  This is a personal matter between us, and you know it, and a Southern gentleman settles his own affairs.  Only a Yankee coward would hide behind his authority.”

“And you think I do?”

He glanced about, with a wave of the hand at the guards.

“Doesn’t it look like it?” he asked sarcastically.

The sneer cut me to the quick, cut me so sharply I replied before stopping to reflect.  If he wished to fight me I would give him a chance; either he must make good his boasting or have his bluff called.  And there was but one way.  I looked at the two troopers, who were staring at us in deep interest; at Miles’ grinning appreciation of the scene, and at Hardy, puzzled, but still angry at the use of his daughter’s name.  Then my eyes met the captain’s.

“I am greatly inclined to accommodate you, Captain Le Gaire,” I said quietly, “and give you any opportunity you may desire on equal terms.  Sergeant, take the men into the hall.”

They passed out reluctantly enough, and I stepped over to make certain the door was securely closed.  Then I came back, and fronted the fellow.  He had not changed his position, although the major had again risen to his feet.

“Well,” I asked, “now what is it you wish to say?”

“Am I no longer a prisoner?”

“Not so far as our personal relations are concerned.  My men will prevent your leaving these grounds, or sending out any message before night.  Otherwise you are at liberty.  Now what do you propose doing?”

My unexpected promptness dazed him, but in no way diminished his anger.

“Will you fight me?”

“I see no occasion for it.”

“Then I will furnish one.”