Part 50 (1/2)

”Don't you know?” he whispered.

”Know what?” she almost gasped.

”That I'm a prisoner.”

She sprung to her feet and was about to utter some pa.s.sionate exclamation; but he said, hastily, ”Oh, hush, or I'm lost. I believe that eyes are upon me all the time.”

”Heigho!” she exclaimed, walking to the edge of the veranda, ”I wish I knew what General Lee was doing. We are expecting to hear of another great battle every day;” and she swept the vicinity with a seemingly careless glance, detecting a dark outline behind some shrubbery not far away. Instantly she sprung down the steps and confronted the rebel sergeant.

”What are you doing here?” she asked, indignantly.

”My duty,” was the stolid reply.

”Find duty elsewhere then,” she said, haughtily.

The man slunk away, and she returned to Lane, who remarked, significantly, ”Now you understand me.”

It was evident that she was deeply excited, and immediately she began to speak in a voice that trembled with anger and other emotions.

”This is terrible. I had not thought--indeed it cannot be. My father would not permit it. The laws of war would apply, I suppose, to your enlisted men, but that you and Surgeon McAllister, who have been our guests and have sat at our table, should be taken from our hospitality into captivity is monstrous. In permitting it, I seem to share in a mean, dishonorable thing.”

”How characteristic your words and actions are!” said Lane, gently.

”It would be easy to calculate your orbit. I fear you cannot help yourself. You forget, too, that I was the means of sending to prison even your Major Denham.”

”Major Denham is nothing--” she began, impetuously, then hesitated, and he saw the rich color mantling her face even in the moonlight.

After a second or two she added: ”Our officers were captured in fair fight. That is very different from taking a wounded man and a guest.”

”Not a guest in the ordinary sense of the word. You see I can be fair to your people, unspeakably as I dread captivity. It will not be so hard for McAllister, for surgeons are not treated like ordinary prisoners. His remaining, however, was a brave, unselfish act;” and Lane spoke in tones of deep regret.

”It must not be,” she said, sternly.

”Miss Suwanee,”--and his voice was scarcely audible,--”do you think we can be overheard?”

”No,” she replied, in like tones. ”Roberta and mamma are incapable of listening.”

”I was not thinking of them. I must speak quickly. I don't wish to involve you, but the surgeon and I must try to escape, for I would almost rather die than be taken prisoner. Deep as is my longing for liberty I could not leave you without a word, and my trust in the chivalric feeling that you have just evinced is so deep as to convince me that I can speak to you safely. I shall not tell you anything to compromise you. You have only to be blind and deaf if you see or hear anything.”

Her tears were now falling fast, but she did not move, lest observant eyes should detect her emotion.

”Heaven bless your good, kind heart!” he continued, in a low, earnest tone. ”Whether I live or die, I wish you to know that your memory will ever be sacred to me, like that of my mother and one other.

Be a.s.sured that the life you have done so much to save is always at your command. Whenever I can serve you or yours you can count on all that I am or can do. Suwanee, I shall be a better man for having known you. You don't half appreciate yourself, and every succeeding day has only proved how true my first impressions were.”

She did not answer, and he felt that it would be dangerous to prolong the interview. They entered the house together. As they went up the stairs she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, he wondering at her silence and emotion. At the landing in the dusky hall-way he raised her hand to his lips.

There was not a trace of gallantry in the act, and she knew it. It was only the crowning token of that recognition at which she had wondered from the first. She realized that it was only the homage of a knightly man and the final expression of his grat.i.tude; but it overwhelmed her, and she longed to escape with the terrible revelation which had come to her at last. She could not repress a low sob, and, giving his hand a quick, strong pressure, she fled to her room.

”Can it be possible?” he thought. ”Oh! if I have wounded that heart, however unintentionally, I shall never forgive myself.”

”Lane,” whispered McAllister, when the former entered his room, ”there are guards about the house.”

”I'm not surprised,” was the despondent reply. ”We are prisoners.”