Mobray made an impulsive movement as Clowes stooped and kissed the girl’s hand, almost as if intending to strike the baron; but checking himself; he sarcastically remarked, with a frowning face:  “If you enjoy the favour of his Lordship, Miss Meredith, you need not look further for help.  We fellows who fight for our country barely get enough to keep life in us, but the commissariat knows not short commons.  Mr. Commissary-General, you have an opportunity to aid Miss Meredith that you should not have were it in my power to forestall you.”

“Come to my office, Miss Janice,” requested Clowes, perhaps glad to get away from the presence of the young officers.  He led the way across the hallway to another room, and, after the two were seated, would have taken the girl’s hand again had she not avoided his attempt.

In the fewest possible words Janice retold her plight, broken only by interjections of sympathy from her listener, and by two futile endeavours to gain possession of her hand.

“Have no fear of any want in the future,” he exclaimed heartily.  “In truth, Miss Meredith, on our entrance we seized much that was unfit for the troops, while since then the military necessities have compelled the destruction of many of the finest houses about Germantown, and I took good care that what store of delicacies and wines they might hold should not be destroyed along with them.  But give me thy number, and thy mother shall have all that she needs.”  Clowes caught the maiden’s hand, and though she rose with the action, and slightly shrank away from him, this time he had his will and kissed it hotly.

Janice gave the address and thanked him with warm words of gratitude, somewhat neutralised by her trying to free her hand.

Instead of yielding to her wish, the commissary only tightened his grasp.  “Ye have owed me something for long,” he said, drawing her toward him in spite of her striving.  “Surely I have earned it to-day.”

“Lord Clowes, I beg—­” began Janice; but there she ended the plea, and, throwing her free arm as a shield before her face, she screamed.

Instantly there was a sound of a falling chair, and both the card-players burst into the room.

Quick as they were, Clowes had already dropped his hold, and at a respectful distance was saying:  “The wine and food shall reach ye within the hour, Miss Meredith.”

Janice silently curtseyed her thanks, and darted past the young officers, alike anxious to escape explanation to them, or further colloquy with her persecutor.

In this latter desire the girl secured but a brief postponement, for she was not long returned when the knocker summoned her to the front door, and on the steps stood the commissary and two soldiers laden with a basket apiece.

“Ye see I’m true to my word, Miss Meredith,” said Lord Clowes.  “Give me the whiskets, and be off with ye,” he ordered to the men; and then to the girl continued:  “Where will ye have them bestowed?”