"Then you realize that I am right?"

"Yes," slowly, but making no effort to release her hands. "Yet is no other escape possible?"

"None within my knowledge."

"And you must go?"

"I must go--unless you bid me stay."

"Oh, I cannot; I cannot at such a cost!" she cried, and I could feel her body tremble with the intensity of her emotion. "But, Captain Wayne, our friendship surely need not be severed now for ever? I cannot bear to think that it should be. I am no cold, heartless ingrate, and shall never forget what you have done to serve me. I value every sacrifice you have made on my behalf. Let us indeed part now if, as you say, it must be so; yet surely there are happier days in store for both of us--days when the men of this nation will not wear different uniforms and deem it manly to fight and kill each other."

"The great struggle will certainly cease, possibly within a very few weeks," I answered, greatly moved by her earnestness, "but I fear the men engaged in it will remain much the same in their natures however they may dress. I can only say this: Were the path clear I would surely find you, no matter where you were hidden."

She bowed her head against the post of the stair-rail and sobbed silently. I stood without speaking, knowing nothing I could hope to say which would in the least comfort her, for in my own heart abode the same dull despair. At last she looked up, making not the slightest attempt to disguise her emotion.

"How terrible it is that a woman must ever choose between such evils,"

she said almost bitterly. "The heart says one thing and duty another all through life, it seems to me. I have seen so much of suffering in these last few months, so much of heartless cruelty, that I cannot bear to be the cause of any more. You and Major Brennan must not meet; but, Captain Wayne, I will not believe that we are to part thus for ever."

"Do you mean that I am to seek you when the war closes?"

"There will be no time when I shall not most gladly welcome you."

"Your home?" I asked, wondering still if she could mean all that her words implied. "I have never known where you resided in the North."

"Stonington, Connecticut." She smiled at me through the tears yet clinging to her long lashes. "You may never come, of course, yet I shall always feel now that perhaps you will; and that is not like a final good-bye, is it?"

I bowed above the hands I held, and pressed my lips upon them. For the moment I durst not speak, and then--a voice suddenly sounded in the hall below:

"I am greatly obliged to you, Miss Minor; she is probably lying down. I will run up and call her."

We started as if rudely awakened from a dream, while a sudden expression of fright swept across her face.

"Oh, do not meet him," she begged piteously. "For my sake do not remain here."

"I will go down the back stairway," I returned hastily, "but do you indeed mean it? may I come to you?"

"Yes, yes; but pray go now!"

Unable longer to restrain myself, I clasped her to me, held her for one brief instant strained to my breast, kissed her twice upon lips which had no opportunity for refusal.

"This world is not so wide but that somewhere in it I shall again find the one woman of my heart," I whispered pa.s.sionately, and was gone.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

A PLAN MISCARRIED

I remembered as I hurried down the back stairway her flushed face, but could recall no look of indignant pride in those clear eyes whose pleasant memory haunted me. She loved me; of this I now felt doubly a.s.sured, and the knowledge made my heart light, even while I dreaded the consequences to us both. To have won was much, even although hope of possession did not accompany the winning. Neither of us might ever again blot out those pa.s.sionate words of love, nor forget the glad meeting of our lips.

I stepped out into the kitchen and came to a sudden pause, facing a table laden with such a variety and abundance of food as had been strange to me for many a long day. Directly opposite, a napkin tucked beneath his double chin, his plate piled high with good things, sat Ebers, while at either end I beheld Mr. and Mrs. Bungay similarly situated. The astonishment of our meeting seemed mutual. The Sergeant, apparently feeling the necessity of explanation, wiped his mouth soberly.

"I vos yoost goin' to fill me op mit der dings like a good soldier, Captain," he said in anxiety.

"So I perceive," I answered, my own spirits high. "The long night of fasting must have left quite a vacancy."

"I vos like a cistern in mein insides, by Chiminy."

"No doubt; well, I am rather hungry myself. Mrs. Bungay, in memory of old times cannot you spare me a plate? If so, I will take pleasure in joining your happy company. Thank you. I see you have found your man."

She glared down the table, and the little fellow visibly shrank.

"I have thet, sir," she answered grimly, "an' I reckon as how he's likely ter stay et hum arter this."

"But you forget he is my guide," I protested, not disinclined to test her temper. "Surely, Mrs. Bungay, you would not deprive the South of his valuable service?"

"An' wouldn't I, now? An' didn't thet little whiffit promise me long afore he ever did you uns? Ain't he my nat'ral pertecter? Whut's a lone female a goin' ter dew yere in ther mountings wi'out no man?" Her eyes flashed angrily at me. "Suah, an' if it's jist fightin' as he wants so bad I reckon as how he kin git it et hum wi'out goin' ter no war-- anyhow ye kin bet I don't give him up, now I got my hand on him agin, fer ther whole kit an' caboodle of ye. He bean't much ter look et, likely, but he 's my man, an' I reckon as how ther Lord giv' him ter me ter take keer of."

"Really, Mrs. Bungay," I insisted, "of course it will prove exceedingly disagreeable to me, and I shall greatly regret being compelled to do anything of the kind, but it is undoubtedly my duty to place Jed under guard and carry him back to camp with me."

"But suah, an' ye won't, Captain dear?" she pleaded, entirely changing her tone. "Whut good is thet little whiffit ter you uns? There's never so much as a decent fight in him thet I've found in twenty years. Maybe ye think as how I'm jist a bit hard on him; but he's thet gay at times thet he drives me fair crazy. Every lick I ever give him wus fer his own good. Suah now, an' ye never would run off with my man?"

"Come, Jed, what do you say? Are you tired fighting the battles of the Confederacy, and prefer those of home?"

"'Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, Ellen and I will seek, apart, The refuge of some forest cell, There like the hunted quarry dwell, Till on the mountain and the moor, The stern pursuit be pa.s.sed and o'er,'"

he quoted humbly. "I like ter read all 'bout fightin' well 'nough, but durn it, Cap, it kinder hurts whin they hits ye on ther head with a gun." His face lit up suddenly. "'Sides, I sorter wanter hev Mariar git 'quainted with thet thar muel o' mine, Beelzebub."

"But you've lost him."

"Nary a durn loss; ye jist can't lose thet muel, he's too blame ornary.

He's out thar now, hitched ter a tree, an' a eatin' fit ter bust his biler--never a durn mark on his hide fer all he wint through."

"Well, I suppose I shall be compelled to let you and Beelzebub go, but it will prove a serious loss to the cause of the South," I said, my thoughts instantly turned by mention of the mule to matters of more importance. "I expect there will be lively times up your way."

"Ye kin jist bet thar will," enthusiastically. "It'll be nip an' tuck, I reckon, but I 'm mighty hopeful o' Mariar. Thet dern muel he needs ter be took down a peg."

Ebers was eating all this time with an eagerness which plainly exhibited his fear lest I should call him to halt before he had entirely filled the aching void in his interior department. I could not fail to note the deep anxiety in his eyes as he watched me furtively.

"Sergeant," I said, and he started perceptibly.

"I vos not yet done, Captain," he implored. "Mein Gott, but I vos so hongry as never vos."

"Oh, eat all you please; I merely wished to question you a little. Did you send out a party to bring in our horses and the sabres?"

"It vos all done already; der horses vos found und der swords. Yaw, I see to all dot; but I vos hongry, und vaited here to fill me op."