United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
“Faith, I promise with all my heart,” he answered. “I hadn’t any
intention of even telling you.”
“How long will you be here?” she asked a moment later.
“Till I get orders to move,” he replied. “A day or so at most. In the
meantime I shall be out, looking for horses and getting together any men
that I can find.”
Dorothea noticed that April’s eyes were sparkling as they had not
sparkled for a long time when she came into the room after her stroll
upon the lawn with Val Tracy. And this brought another thought to plague
the girl. Could it be that April was fond of Val? That, in spite of all
she had heard, it was this young Irishman her cousin really cared for
and not Lee Hendon?
“I can easily understand how she might,” she said to herself.
Nor was Dorothea the only one in the room to notice the difference in
April’s spirits and to find a possible cause for it. Miss Imogene, her
bright eyes taking in all that went on about her, watched the girl for a
moment and then shook her head.
“It would be too bad,” she thought enigmatically.
It was Dorothea April had in mind when she warned Tracy that there might
be one in the family who would betray his secret. Her conviction of the
rightfulness of the Confederate cause made it impossible, at times, for
her not to be swayed by her prejudices. Almost from the day of
Dorothea’s arrival she had harbored a suspicion of her cousin’s purpose
in visiting them. From the moment she earned that a band of Northern
sympathizers were actually at work in the South she could not forget
that Dorothea wore a red band of velvet around her wrist. She was never
without it, and once having seized upon the idea, April was constantly
on the lookout for some other evidence that would connect her cousin
directly with the “Red Strings.”
There was nothing in the girl’s actions to confirm these suspicions save
the wearing of that red band about her wrist. The fact that a prisoner
escaped from Andersonville had passed their way was no matter for
surprise. Such escapes were frequent, and no particular importance could
be attached to that event. In addition she had a genuine liking for
Dorothea. In the year that had passed since her cousin had come to visit
them there were times when she had entirely forgotten the doubt that
haunted her. It was so vague and so improbable that she was rather
ashamed of her lack of trust and had been careful to tell no one of it.
She appreciated that Dorothea had not the same intense love for the
Confederate cause that she had, but she was also too sensible a person
to expect it. Indeed she wanted to be fair, but her suspicion persisted
and the most careless act which held a shadow of suggestion that could
strengthen this belief her mind fastened on tenaciously. And, as the
fortunes of the Confederacy became more and more desperate, April, with
nerves at tension, was ready to distort any innocent action into some
evidence of treachery.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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