United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
"Pardon me, but if it _was_ true--if a brother or a father--was
concealed in there--wouldn't your answer be the same?"
The answer that came proudly back did not amaze him. "I would try to
protect them--yes! Even with a _perjury_!"
"Ah!" he said sharply. "Then, don't you you see, you tie the hands of
courtesy and _force_ me to--to this invasion of your home. _Corporal!_
Make a search of the house for hidden arms or stragglers and report to
me. If any rebels are found--bring them out. Wait," he ordered, as the
Corporal promptly started forward, "nothing else, _whatever_, must be
taken or molested."
"One moment," commanded Mrs. Cary in her turn and beckoned to Uncle
Billy who had been standing by in silence. "William! conduct these
soldiers through my house--and show them every courtesy. If the
Colonel's orders are not obeyed, report to me."
"Yas'm," grinned Uncle Billy, with an opera bouffe salute. "Ev'ry
molestashun I'se gwine report."
Morrison laughed outright. "I'm sorry you still have doubts of my
honorable intentions. May--may my soldiers go in now? Thank you."
He walked away a few steps, then turned and looked at her where she sat
on the bench demurely sewing. It occurred to him that she was _too_
demure. Besides, he had discovered something.
"Er--it is true that I found your stable empty," he said, while his eyes
probed hers, "but, curiously enough, it seems to have been recently
occupied."
"Yes?" was the non-committal reply.
"Yes," he echoed, with a touch of iron in his voice. "And you can insure
our leaving you more quickly if you will tell me where these horses have
been hidden."
Mrs. Cary did not raise her eyes.
"Granted that we _had_ them," she said, "I'm afraid I must trouble you
to look for them. Otherwise there would be no sense in trying to protect
my property."
"Right again," he acknowledged, but did not swerve from what he had to
do. "Orderly," he commanded, "report to Lieutenant Harris at the stables
and have him hunt the woods and swamp for hidden horses. Hurry! We must
leave in half an hour."
As Morrison spoke his eye fell on the roadway and he started
perceptibly. When he turned back to the woman on the bench it was with a
sterner light in his eye.
"I also notice that a horse has recently been fed and watered in your
carriage road. _Whose was he?_"
Again that smooth, soft voice with its languid evasions. "We have
several neighbors, Colonel. They visit us at infrequent times."
"Undoubtedly," he conceded. "But do you usually feed their horses?"
She smiled faintly. "What little hospitality is ours extends to both man
and beast."
"I can well believe it," he replied, for he saw to cross-examine this
quick witted woman would be forever useless. "And in happier times I
could wish it might extend--to me.
"Oh, I mean no offense," he interrupted as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "I
only want you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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