MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
war broke out, we have had peace. Now he has come back—come with the Yankee army behind him—and—and it is murder again."
"You know this to be all true?"
The cellar was almost dark now, but I could see her straighten up, her hands clasped tightly together.
"Do I know? Oh, God, yes; I have been part of it. I have seen men shot down. I have cowered in darkness and rain while flames destroyed the house I called home. All my childhood was a passion of fear."
She dropped her face into her hands, not crying, but endeavoring rather to shut out the memory.
"I am sorry to compel you to review all this," I said gently. "But I am glad to know the truth. You say Calvert Dunn and his father hold me to be one of Daniels's followers, and would deal with me accordingly. How about Colonel Donald?"
"He believes you guilty of killing Lieutenant Navarre, but merely in an effort at escape. Otherwise he thinks you have told the truth, and favors turning you over to the military authorities."
"They expect to return?"
"Yes, to-night, with a squad of Colonel Donald's men."
I stood staring at her white face, now barely visible through the growing darkness. Somehow this all seemed more like a dream than a reality, and I could not grasp the full meaning of it.
"And yet you ask me to remain, Miss Denslow, to remain here voluntarily and wait for them?" I asked in despair of comprehending. "You open the door of my
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