By and by he harked back to the matter of his errand, making some apology for his coming to me as the baronet’s second.

“’Twas none of my free offering, you may be sure,” he added.  “But it so happened that Captain Falconnet once did me a like turn.  I had chanced to run afoul of that captain of Hessian pigs, Lauswoulter, at cards, and Falconnet stood my friend—­though now I bethink me, he did seem over-anxious that one or the other of us should be killed.”

“As how?” I inquired.

“When Lauswoulter slipped and I might have spitted him, and didn’t, Falconnet was for having us make the duel a outrance.  But that’s beside the mark.  Having served me then, he makes the point that I shall serve him now.”

“’Tis a common courtesy, and you could not well refuse.  I love you none the less for paying your debts; even to such a villain as this volunteer captain.”

“True, ’tis a debt, as you say; but I like little enough the manner of its paying.  How came you to quarrel with him, Jack?”

Now even so blunt a soldier as I have ever been may have some prickings of delicacy where the truth might breed gossip—­gossip about a tale which I had said should die with Richard Coverdale and be buried in his grave.  So I evaded the question, clumsily enough, as has ever been my hap in fencing with words.

“The cause was not wanting.  If any ask, you may say he trod upon my foot in passing.”

Jennifer laughed.

“And for that you struck him?  Heavens, man! you hold your life carelessly.  Do you happen to know that this volunteer captain of light-horse is accounted the best blade in the troop?”

“Who should know that better than—­” I was fairly on the brink of betraying the true cause of quarrel, but drew rein in time.  “I care not if he were the best in the army.  I have crossed steel before—­and with a good swordsman now and then.”

“Anan?” said Jennifer, as one who makes no doubt.  And then:  “But this toe-pinching story is but a dry crust to offer a friend.  You spoke of a lady; who was she?  Or was that only another way of telling me to mind my own affairs?”

“Oh, as to that; the lady was real enough, and Falconnet did grossly asperse her.  But I know not who she is, nor aught about her, save that she is sweet and fair and good to look upon.”

“Young?”

“Aye.”

“And you say you do not know her?  Let me see her through your eyes and mayhap I can name her for you.”

“That I can not.  Mr. Peale’s best skill would be none too great for the painting of any picture that should do her justice.  But she is small, with the airs and graces of a lady of the quality; also, she has witching blue eyes, and hair that has the glint of summer sunshine in it.  Also, she sits a horse as if bred to the saddle.”

To my amazement, Jennifer leaped up with an oath and flung his pipe into the fire.