"Miss,
what have you been doing? What are you here for? Captain
Farnsworth, you will please state the particulars of the trouble
that I have just heard about. And I may as well notify you that I
wish to hear no special lover's pleading in this girl's behalf."
Farnsworth's face whitened with anger; he bit his lip and a shiver
ran through his frame; but he had to conquer the passion. In a few
words, blunt and direct as musket-balls, he told all the
circumstances of what had taken place, making no concealments to
favor Alice, but boldly blaming the officer of the patrol,
Lieutenant Barlow, for losing his head and attacking a young girl
in her own home.
"I will hear from Barlow," said Hamilton, after listening
attentively to the story. "But take this girl and confine her.
Show her no favors. I hold you responsible for her until to-morrow
morning. You can retire."
There was no room for discussion. Farnsworth saluted and turned to
Alice.
"Come with me," he gently said.
Hamilton looked after them as they went out of his room, a curious
smile playing around his firmly set lips.
"She's the most beautiful vixen that I ever saw," he thought. "She
doesn't look to be a French girl, either--decidedly English." He
shrugged his shoulders, then laughed dryly. "Farnsworth's as crazy
as can be, the beggar; in love with her so deep that he can't see
out.
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