At our incoming all eyes were turned upon us, but it required my Lord’s sharp question to make me leave off dwelling upon my sweet lady’s radiant beauty.

“How now, Captain Ireton?  Do you bring us news from the major?”

I broke the fascinating eyehold and turned slowly to face my fate.

“I do, my Lord.”

“Well, what of him?  You left him hastening to rejoin with his new loyalist levies, I hope?”

I drew my sword, reversed it and laid it upon the table.

“May all the enemies of the Commonwealth be even as he is, my Lord,” I said, quietly.

Now, truly, I had hanged my petard well and ’twas plain the shock of it had gone far to shatter the wall of confidence our enemies had builded on the field of Camden and elsewhere.  Had a hand-grenade with the fuse alight been dropped upon the table, the consternation could scarce have been greater.  To a man the tableful was up and thronging round me; but above all the hubbub I heard a little cry of misery from the table-foot where my lady sat.

“How is this, sir?—­explain yourself!” thundered my Lord, forgetting for once his mild suavity.

“’Tis but a brief tale, and I will make it as crisp as may be in the telling,” I replied.  “I came upon the major some miles this side of the crossing of the Broad.  He was marching to rejoin you, in accordance with his orders.  But when he had your Lordship’s command to stand and fight, he obeyed.”

“My command?—­but I gave him no such order!”

“Nay, truly, you did not—­neither in the original nor in the duplicate, my Lord.  But when we had waylaid Lieutenant Tybee and quenched the duplicate, and had so amended the original as to make it fit our purpose, the brave major thanked you for what you had not done and made his stand to await the upcoming of the over-mountain men.”

For a moment I thought they would hew me limb from limb, but my Lord quelled the fierce outburst with a word.

“Put up your swords, gentlemen.  We shall know how to deal with this traitor,” he said.  And then to me:  “Go on, sir, if you please; there has been a battle, as I take it?”

“There has, indeed.  The mountain men came up with us in the afternoon of the Saturday.  In an hour one-third of the major’s force was dead or dying, the major himself was slain, and every living man left on the field was a prisoner.”

Again a dozen swords hissed from their scabbards, and again I heard the little cry of misery from the table-foot.  I bowed my head, looking momently to pay the penalty; but once more my Lord put the swords aside.

“Let us have a clean breast of it this time, Captain Ireton,” he said.  “You know well what you have earned, and nothing you can say will make it better or worse for you.  Was this your purpose in making your submission to me?”

“It was.”

“And you have been a rebel from the first?”