“Not one word did he speak to me from the moment I was trapped until—­until you, like a good angel, as now I know, came to my rescue.”  He bowed his head and pressed his lips upon the palm of her hand.

The girl was beginning an explanation when a loud laugh from the dining-room recalled to her the danger.  “You must not stay,” she protested, as she caught away her hand, which the aide had continued holding.  “There are five—­”

“I know it,” interrupted Jack; “and if you ’d not come to me, I’d have burst in on them rather than have my third ride futile.”

“Oh, go; please go!” begged the girl, his reckless manner adding yet more to her alarm.

“Say that you forgive me,” pleaded the officer, catching her hands.

“Yes, yes, anything; only go!” besought Janice, as a second laugh from the dining-room warned her anew of the peril.

Jack stooped and kissed each hand in turn, but even as he did so one of the officers in the next room bawled:—­

“Here ’s a toast to Leftenant Hennion and his bride,—­ hip, hip, hip, bumpers!”

Janice felt herself caught by both shoulders, with all the tenderness gone from the touch.

“What does that mean?” the aide demanded, his face very close to her own.

The girl, with bowed head, partly in shame, and partly to escape the blazing eyes which fairly burned her own, replied:  “I am to marry Mr. Hennion next Thursday.”

“Willingly?” burst from her questioner, as if the word were shot from a bomb.

“No.”

“Then you’ll do nothing of the kind,” denied Brereton, with a sudden gaiety of voice.  “My horse is hid in the woods by the river; but say the word, and you shall be under Lady Washington’s protection at Morristown before daylight.”

“And what then?” questioned the girl.

“Then?  Why, a marriage with me the moment you’ll give me ay.”

“But I care no more for you than I do for Mr. Hennion; and even—­”

“But I’ll make you care for me,” interrupted Jack, ardently.

“And even if I did,” concluded Janice, “you yourself helped to teach me what the world thinks of elopements.”

“Ah, don’t let—­don’t deny—­”

“No, once for all; and release me, sir, I beg.”

“Not till you swear to me that this accursed wedding is not to take place till Thursday.”

“Of course not.”

“And where is it to be?”

“At the church in Brunswick.”

“And is the looby with his regiment or staying here?”

“Here.”

Brereton laughed gaily, and more loudly than was prudent.  “A bet and a marvel,” he bantered:  “a barley-corn to Miss Janice Meredith, that the sweetest, most bewitching creature in the world lacks a groom on her wedding day!  I must not tarry, for ’t is thirty miles to Morristown, and three days is none too much time for what I would do.  Farewell,” Jack ended, once more catching her hands and kissing them.  He hurriedly crossed the room, but as he laid hold of the latch he as suddenly turned and strode back to the maid.  “Has he ever kissed you?” he demanded, with a savage scowl on his face.