THE TABLES TURNED
"He was with you, then, all the time until you got back to the lines?"
"He never got twinty feet away, sor."
I stood staring at him, more puzzled and perplexed than ever. It was not Daniels, then: not Daniels. I glanced back into the lighted hall, oppressed by the mystery, all my previous theories shattered. The sergeant broke in, anxious to expedite matters.
"I'd like to have the straight of this thing, sir, and get my men back into camp. Is there anything to be done here?"
"No; there are only two women in the house," I replied, making up my mind quickly what I should tell. "When I first got in here Big Donald and two other Confederate officers were present, and I was made captive by a trick. Later I was left under guard of the women while the men went after a squad to take me into the Rebel lines. In the meanwhile there were some strange happenings here: two men were mysteriously killed."
"Killed? How?"
"By a knife thrust in the throat. In fear for their own lives the ladies released me, but we have searched the house without finding trace of the murderer. One body was removed, but the other lies yonder in the library."
The sergeant stared at me. as though scarcely comprehending my words, while O'Brien's eyes were on the lighted hall.
"That's a queer sort of a yarn, sir."
"Ay, it is, sergeant, and the more you know of the details the queerer it gets."
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