The ladies were taking their usual promenade through the main corridor
of the jail, curiously gazing at times through the newly-grated door at
the prisoners in the main room, and seasoning their morning gossip with
piquant observations on the probable execution of the horrid creatures
there confined. Mrs. PEYTON took occasion to inform Mrs. MASON that she
wouldn't pass a day without taking a look at the wretches for all the
world; and Mrs. MASON informed Mrs. PEYTON that her life would hardly
be endurable if she did not live in hope of seeing all the
Abolitionists there yet. Here young Mr. BARON ventured to intimate that
the Yankee prisoners were fortunate in being favored with such an array
of _fair_ before them; for which he was saluted as an "absurd thing,"
and received a shower of taps from adjacent fans.
Miss ADAMS led her companion, a neighbor's child, to where a keeper was
leaning idly against the wall.
"Are these all your prisoners?" she asked.
"All but one that was taken last night and is up stairs," replied the
official.
"Is that one on exhibition?"
"I reckon he is, if you want to see him."
"Well," said Miss ADAMS, with an assumption of indifference, "I don't
know that it's worth while; but--well, I reckon I _will_ look at him."
"This way, then, if you please," said the keeper, leading the way up an
adjacent flight of stairs and conducting the fair one to the room
occupied by Mr. PETERS.
BOB was gazing gloomily out of the window and did not recognize the
presence of his new guests until the end of a parasol touched his
shoulder.
"Miss ADAMS!" he exclaimed, offering his hand.
The young lady tossed her head haughtily:
"I don't wish to shake hands with an enemy of my country, sir."
"I see," said BOB, coolly, "the presence of a third party obliges us to
vail our emotions. Keeper, leave the saloon."
"Pay no attention to him, Keeper," retorted EVE, indignantly, "I wish
your attendance."
Not at all abashed by the severity of her tone, Mr. PETERS nodded to
the officer and smiled pleasantly.
"Then I must expose you with a witness to it," he said, good-naturedly;
"you are offended, Miss EVE because I did not comply with your kind
note and meet your friends at a quarter-of Twelve, instead of walking
straight into trouble at quarter-past, as I did."
"You are beneath my notice," was the answer of Miss ADAMS; "but since
you choose to speak so I must explain myself to this good man here. You
are indebted to me for your present situation. I am a Southern woman,
sir, and it was my duty as a Southerner, to see that you did not escape
to injure our cause by telling some of your Northern falsehoods about
us. I wrote you the note you speak of in order that you might be drawn
from your hiding place, and also one to the authorities putting them on
the watch. I may be a woman, but I have the heart of a man."
If Miss ADAMS did _not_ have the heart of a man it was owing to no
neglect on her part of any possible means to catch such a heart. That
is to say, all her dearest and most intimate female friends said so.
Her speech was evidently intended to impress the prisoner with a
torturing sense of woman's vengeance, but, contrary to her expectation,
Mr. PETERS received it with the utmost complacency. In fact, he even
evinced a playful disposition and favored the attentive keeper with an
insidious wink.
"I don't doubt that your intentions were excellent, Miss EVE," said Mr.
BOB PETERS, with an air of great enjoyment; "but they did not work as
well as your affectionate heart designed. Because--you see--I did'nt
come out at a quarter of Twelve at all, nor did I follow any of your
directions. Oh, no! It was just quarter-past Twelve by my repeater when
I departed from my late residence, and it's my private opinion that
your dear friend, Miss ORDETH, had the privilege of being my adviser on
that nocturnal occasion. Don't let your sensitive soul be afflicted
with the thought that _you_ have wronged confiding innocence," added
BOB, pathetically, "for I do assure you that you are as guiltless as
the child unborn."
"What do you mean, sir?" asked EVE, in some haste; "were you not
arrested at a quarter of Twelve?"
"Why no!" said BOB. "Don't I tell you that I didn't break cover until
quarter-past?"
"Well, sir," snarled EVE, with no little irritation, "you're here at
any rate, and I hope you'll enjoy the society of your Yankee friends
down stairs. I hope you'll all be hung. I do."
And the injured fair swept magnificently from the room, dragging with
her the neighbor's child, and leaving Mr. PETERS alone with the keeper.
"I say, she's a spunky one," remarked the latter. "It's a pity you
really did'nt wait till quarter-past. I would'nt trust a woman with
such eyes as hers--I would'nt."
"And I didn't trust them," said BOB. "It was full quarter-past by my
repeater when I came out, and if I'm betrayed it's by another woman."
"Oh, come now," put in the keeper, deprecatingly, "it's all right, you
know, between us two. It was'nt but quarter-past when I locked you in
here, you know."
"What!" exclaimed BOB.
"Fact," said the keeper.
Mr. PETERS deliberately drew out his watch and held it up in full view.
"By all that's true!" said BOB, "it was quarter-past Twelve by that
repeater before I was taken last night."
The rebel official looked steadily into the eyes of his prisoner for a
moment, and then withdrew hurriedly and in silence. He evidently
mistrusted the sincerity of Mr. PETERS, or believed that a man with
such a fast watch was too much ahead of _his_ time to be trusted
without a watch of a different kind.