you love me!  I’ll woo you till I win you, my sweet, if it take a life to do it.”  Raising the hand he held, the aide kissed it fondly.  “I know I’ve given you reason to think me disrespectful and rough; I know I have the devil’s own temper; but if I’ve caused you pain at moments, I’ve suffered tenfold in the recollection.  Can you not forgive me?” Once again he eagerly caressed her hand; and finding that she offered no resistance to the endearments, Jack, with an inarticulate cry of delight, stooped and pressed his lips to her cheek.

On the instant Janice felt a hand laid on her shoulders, then on her head, as if some one were feeling of her.

“Who is this?” demanded Jack, lifting his head with a start.

The question was scarce uttered when the sound of a blow came to the girl’s ears, and the arm which had been supporting her relaxed its hold, as the lover sank rather than fell to the floor.  With loud screams the girl staggered backward, groping her way blindly in the dark.  There came the sound of feet hurrying down the hallway, and the door was thrown open by one of the men servants, revealing, by the shaft of light which came through it, the figure of Jack stretched on the floor, with the commissary kneeling upon him, engaged in binding his wrists with a handkerchief.

“Out to the stables, and get me a guard!” ordered Lord Clowes.  “I have a spy captured here.  No; first light those candles from the lamp in the hall.  I advise ye, Miss Meredith,” he said scoffingly, “that next time ye arrange an assignation with a lover that ye take the precaution to assure yourself that the room is unoccupied.”

“Oh, Lord Clowes,” implored the girl, “won’t you let him go for my sake?”

“That plea is the least likely of any to gain your wish,” responded the baron, derisively.

“I will promise that I will never wed him, will never see him again,” offered Janice.

“Of that I can give ye assurance,” retorted the commissary, rising and picking up from where he had dropped it the horse pistol with which he had stunned the unconscious man.  “A drum-head court-martial will sit not later than to-morrow morning, Miss Meredith, and there will be one less rebel in the world ere nightfall.  Your promise is a fairly safe one to make.  Here,” he continued, as the soldiers came running into the room, “fetch a pail of water and douse it over this fellow, for I want to carry him before Sir William.  Ye were wise not to remove your wraps, Miss Meredith, for I shall have to ask your company as well.”

When the aide was sufficiently conscious to be able to stand, he was put between two of the soldiers, and ten minutes later the whole party reached the house of the commander-in-chief.  Given entrance, without waiting to have their arrival announced, the commissary led the way through the parlour into the back room, where, about a supper table, the British commander, Mrs. Loring, and two officers were sitting.