Love stories; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
On the 29th of June Lane and the surgeon walked some little
distance from the house, and became satisfied that they were under
the surveillance of the rebel sergeant and his men. This fact so
troubled Lane that Suwanee noticed his abstraction and asked him
in the evening what was worrying him. The moonlight fell full on
her lovely, sympathetic face.
"Miss Suwanee," he said, gravely, "I've been your guest about a
month. Are you not tired of me yet?"
"That's a roundabout way of saying you are tired of us."
"I beg your pardon: it is not. But, in all sincerity, I should be
getting back to duty, were it possible."
"Your wound is not sufficiently healed," she said, earnestly, wondering
at the chill of fear that his words had caused. "The surgeon says
it is not."
"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 passionate
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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