“Covering the retreat of a beaten army, my boy; one of the gloomiest tasks of war: on every side the evidence of disaster and the wrecks of battle: abandoned cannon, broken wheels, carcasses of horses, the suffering wounded, and the unburied dead. Oh! war is a terrible thing after all--a terrible thing. To-morrow I go back to it. I report for duty to my regiment somewhere down on the Rappahannock.” Bob spoke up eagerly:-- “Then you won’t be able to go back to--to--” “To get Rhett Bannister? No. That duty will devolve on some one else now. I must report to the provost-marshal at Easton to-night. It’s too bad I couldn’t have had the credit of capturing him, he’s such a notorious copperhead. Oh, I forgot! You’re his son, aren’t you? And I have you under arrest, taking you to the provost-marshal. That’s strange! Why, boy, you are no traitor. I never saw a man more loyal than you are. Indeed, I have talked with few men who know more about the war, the campaigns, and the generals. I never heard a man outside the ranks express more genuine devotion to his country. How is it? What do you mean by having Rhett Bannister for a father?” “I can’t explain it,” replied Bob, “except that I know he’s honest about it, and truly believes he’s right. He’s of Southern ancestry, you know. His father was a South Carolinian. I can’t blame him. I don’t blame him. I’ve tried to think the way he does about it, and not be against him, but I can’t, I simply can’t!” “No, my boy, you can’t! But you can tell me where he is. It’s not yet too late to get him and reach Carbon Creek for the noon train. Will you do it?” “No, sergeant, I won’t. I’m loyal to my country; but I’m loyal to my father too, and I won’t betray him.” “Well, I admire your pluck, but I’ll have to take you-- Will I, though?--is it my duty? Say, boys!” he called to the three private soldiers who had preceded them; “boys, halt!” The men stopped and wheeled round to face their commander. “Soldiers,” he said, “you know why I’m taking this boy. I considered his conduct treasonable in not disclosing his father’s hiding-place. But I find that in reality he is just as loyal as any one of us, except that he knows his father’s secret and refuses to give it away. Now what shall we do with him?” They had reached a point in front of the dwelling-house of Sarah Jane Stark. The men looked in on the smooth green lawn, and then away to the eastern hill range. But before they had made up their minds how to reply to the officer’s question, a woman, coming down the walk from the house, reached the gate where they were standing. It was Sarah Jane Stark herself. “What’s all this about?” she inquired. “Bob Bannister, what are you doing here with these soldiers?” “I’ve been arrested, Miss Stark,” replied Bob modestly. “You? Arrested? Fudge! What does the boy mean?” turning to the officer.