“The particular is Con, God bless her!” he answered. “There’s an American girl for you! There’s a girl of spirit! Pity,” he continued demurely, “that she’s a rebel! She wasn’t blind. By heaven, there wasn’t a stone she left unturned from the moment you left the Bluff! She sent to me and drew me into her plans. She sent to Levi, and drew him in—silly girl—as if any good could come of those rogues! She drew you into the scheme and made use, good use of you, Major. But all the time she was her own best friend. She won a twenty-four hours respite from your commander—that was life or death to her. Then, after learning through her nigger and others the ways of the place, she cast dust in your folks’ eyes by riding away to appeal to Cornwallis—it was uncommonly clever that! And there, I give your folks credit—you can play the gentleman when you please, Major. If all of you played it and played it always,” he went on with a smile, “things would be very different south of the Dan River. I should not be web-footed with living in the swamps of the Pee Dee; and Sumter—” his smile broadened—“would not be sore with riding bare-backed horses in his shirt.” “I’m glad that you think we behaved well,” I said dryly. “But the fact does not explain Captain Wilmer’s escape.” “No, but Con made her market of the fact, God bless her, as of other things,” he answered. And he looked at me so meaningly that the color rose in my face. “She used it to get her interview with her father, and—of course you were too gentlemanly to search her.” “Which means?” “That she took in a nigger outfit, and the rest of it, under her skirts—wig, stain, and all. That night her boy, Tom, took the place of the tavern waiter and carried in Wilmer’s supper and stayed while he ate it. At nine o’clock there was a fight among some negro teamsters in front of the tavern, and under cover of the skirmish Wilmer carried out the tray, with a napkin in his mouth, crossed to the tavern, walked up the yard as bold as brass, and vanished. Clever wasn’t it? Ten minutes later when the guard was changed his black walked out too, carrying the plates. I suppose, first and last,” Marion continued, thoughtfully tapping his boot, “a dozen persons white and black, knew of the plan before it came off—knew where the ’possum was—and not one peached. Weigh that, Major, weigh that, if you please, and tell me, if you can, that you still think you will beat us! Why you’re beaten already!” “But Tom—” “Oh, the nigger ran his risk,” Marion replied carelessly. “Wasn’t he Wilmer’s boy, born on the place? He’d do that and more. And after all he got clear. And by God—I don’t think that I ever saw a more curious thing than I saw just now, and I’ll wager something it’s a sight that I shall never see again.” “What was it?” I asked dully. Seven words he had said earlier “she made use, good use of you” were repeating themselves over and over again in my brain.