How he won herSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
How he won her
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
American fiction -- 19th century
In the midst of her work she was disturbed by a slight noise behind her.
Turning round, she saw Elfie sitting up in bed, with her hands clasping
her temples, her black hair flying loose, and her eyes staring around in
bewilderment.
Alberta put down the knives and forks that were in her hand, and went to
the side of her guest.
“You slept well, Elfie. You never even stirred during the night. I hope
you feel better this morning,” said Alberta.
“Yes; I slept so soundly that when I opened my eyes I couldn’t remember
what had happened to me, or where I was. It seemed to me that I was
still dreaming, or that I had been transferred here by magic. Ah, the
villain! Won’t I make him pay for it!”
“Of whom do you speak, Elfie?”
“Guerrilla Goldsborough, the girl-stealer. I will make him wish that he
himself had been carried off by Satan, rather than carried off me!”
“I am glad to see you in such good spirits, Elfie.”
“Yes, last night I was jaded to death with fatigue. After the good
night’s rest I feel revived. The new day has brought new strength and
resolution. And before it is over, I shall have persuaded Colonel
Corsoni to send me across the lines.”
“My poor girl, I hope you may succeed in doing so”, said Alberta,
gravely.
“I know I shall. For whatever else the Free Sword may be, he is a
gentleman. And none but a caitiff would keep a girl a prisoner against
her will to please anybody,” said Elfie, confidently.
“I do think, if my dear Vittorio suspected that you are really and truly
here against your will, he would do everything in his power to restore
you to your friends. But you see, Elfie, he knew of the attachment
existing between you and Albert, and he cannot understand your
reluctance to remain with him. He judges all women by his own wife, who
left all to follow him and share his fate.”
“Then he _shall_ understand me. He shall know that I am loyal and free.
He shall judge me by myself alone. And when he does this, as a gentleman
and a soldier, he will restore me to my friends,” said Elfie,
positively.
“In what manner?”
“He can send me under a flag of truce to the nearest Federal fort.”
“Ah, dear Elfie, would the flag of truce from a guerrilla chief be
respected by your Federal officers? Would that of Corsoni—of all others,
of Corsoni—an outlaw with a price on his head? What are you thinking of,
my poor child?” said Alberta.
“I am sorry Vittorio is outlawed. Sorrier still that he ever did
anything to place himself in such a dreadful position. But let whoever
may be outlawed or inlawed, I am resolved to be in the Federal lines
before night,” said Elfie, throwing the cover off her, preparatory to
rising.
As she did so, she noticed the large printed U. S. on the head of the
blanket. While she was staring at it, Alberta laughed and said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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