head as Zenas stepped protectingly in front of Sally.
"Non, non—ze cause for ze fright—eet is not needful!" he exclaimed. "I come wiz ze—peace—dans le main—in my hand, m'sieur!"
Sally peeped out from behind Zenas. "Ye—ye—mean—ye be o' the enemy, yet not one o' them, truly?" she faltered. She gestured below. "Any—any more red-coats down there?" Both she and Zenas held their breath for the stranger's answer. When the young Frenchman shook his head, Sally heaved an audible sigh of relief. "Marry, 'tis well! Now, prithee continue, sir!"
"That ees all, mademoiselle!" smiled the young man, with a graceful shrug. "My seem-pa-thee—he ees not wiz ze British! I cannot fight ze so nice Americans now zat I know ze nobility o' zeir cause!"
"Why, then, do ye not fight wi' them?" asked Sally bluntly. "The patriots, I mean!"
But the young Frenchman stood silent, and Sally and Zenas fell into conversation. Suddenly, the girl felt a touch upon her sleeve, and, turning, she found the foreigner staring wide-eyed at the bayonet rents in sleeve and gown.
"Surely—you were not in ze hay—just now!" he exclaimed, in a horror-stricken tone. "I thought ze British were—were looking for men rebels!"
