A Little Traitor to the South Part 13

Being a martyr is certainly a fine thing, but the position loses half its charm unless people know it. To complete her melancholy satisfaction, he-and he considered himself the martyr, not she!-must recognize it. If he would only turn and speak to her. This silence, this immobility, on his part, was unbearable.

She coughed gently and took a step or two across the floor toward him. He gave no sign that he heard her. How cruel he was! So despotic, so determined, so masterful! She abominated a masterful man! She coughed again, and this time a little more emphatically. Still no attention. It was discouraging!

There was a small mirror upon the wall of the room. Her eye in accordance with an instinct feminine, fell swiftly upon it. She lifted her veil to see how far the experiences she had gone through had affected her most potent talisman.

"Heavens!" she thought, "what a fright!"

To take off her hat was the work of a moment. Her swift, subtle fingers busied themselves with her rebellious curls. Another glance rea.s.sured her a little. She felt more confident. She coughed again, but as before, he did not move.

"Mr. Sempland," she said softly at last, in sheer desperation.

He turned on his heel as suddenly as if he had been moved by a spring, and faced her. He had been longing for a chance to recede from his position.

"Miss Glen," he answered with depressing coldness.

"You-you-don't-seem very glad-to see me, sir."

The moment was one of great importance to both of them; their future, the life and happiness of one, the honor and good name of the other, depended upon it-so they thought at least. The conversation accordingly began, as conversations under such circ.u.mstances usually begin, in trivialities.

"I am not," he answered shortly and mendaciously as well.

"I suppose not. I noticed that you-your welcome-wasn't very cordial, I am sure."

"I didn't mean it to be."

"Why didn't you order me out of your room, then?" she went on with becoming humility.

"This room is not mine, I am a prisoner, madam. I have no choice as to my guests."

"But you will soon be free," returned the girl, quietly. "That is, as soon as General Beauregard learns that I-I-"

"Give yourself no concern, Miss Glen," he said loftily; "I shall not betray you."

"What! You won't tell him?" with a perfect a.s.sumption of profound amazement.

"I will not," sternly.

"But they say-I heard-you are to-be-court-martialled."

Her voice sank to a low whisper, as if she were awestricken by the heavy tidings.

"I am."

"And that you will be found guilty-"

"I shall be."

"And-you may-be-shot!"

"You should have thought of that last night when you arrested me, imprisoned me, and so made me false to my duty; but what's the use-" He checked the swift rush of his indignation and continued in bitter calm: "A woman who could so trifle with a soldier's honor cannot appreciate the consequences to him."

"I am sure," she went on very humbly, "that I didn't realize what would happen."

"Of course not," sarcastically.

"And I am willing to make any amends that I can. I will tell General Beauregard myself that I did it. That it was my fault. That I alone am to blame."

"I forbid you to do it!" he exclaimed with great energy.

"I do not care what you say, I shall do it!" stubbornly.

"You do not know what it means," he urged, his heart leaping at the thought that she was willing to set him right and take the blame upon herself-and she loved him after all! Yet he could not permit her to do it. "You do not know what this would mean to you," he repeated. "It was an act of high treason to the South. They will put you in my place. They will certainly punish you."

"Would they shoot me?" she inquired in her most terrified manner, her eyes wide open with beautifully simulated terror.

"'Would they shoot me?' she inquired."

He felt so sorry for the poor little frightened thing. He longed to gather her up in his arms and comfort her, rea.s.sure her.

"They might," he returned, stepping nearer to her and visibly unbending. "I cannot have you take the risk. I won't allow it!"

There was something nice, after all, in the imperative mood, she thought.

"But how will you prevent it, Mr. Sempland?"

"I tell you, I forbid you!"

"But if I disobey? I never promised to obey you, did I?-that is, not yet?"

"I cannot compel you, of course," he answered sadly, drawing back a little. "I know I have neither power nor influence over you, Miss Glen, but this, at least, I can do. I can swear that you are not telling the truth."

"I am sure they would not believe you against me," she retorted vehemently.

CHAPTER XIV

THE WOMAN EXPLAINS

"I think they would believe me against even you," answered Sempland. "I would tell them that you-ah-love me and that you are trying to save me. And more, if you say one word to General Beauregard, or any one else about it after you leave this room, I give you my word of honor I will declare that I was afraid to go and that I stayed with you."

"Why will you be so foolish?" she asked.

"Because I love you," he burst out, "that's the only reason. I have told you before, but you did not seem to believe it, at least you did not appear to care; but now it won't hurt you to hear it once more. You won't have to hear it again from me. It's the last time. I expect every moment they will be here to summon me before the court-martial, so I must tell you now. You are a cruel, heartless coquette. You encouraged Lacy-"