It was a startling tableau.
Colonel Morland looked pale and fearful. There was no pity in the looks
of his captors. Though used to scenes of war, and he had served through
the struggle of 1812, he was at a loss to account for his present
treatment.
Mara, on whom the dark eyes of Captain Dermot were fixed, turned pale,
though she did not lose her self-possession.
“Girl,” he exclaimed, tersely, “where have you secreted that spy?”
“I deny your right to question me,” she replied with flashing eyes.
A sardonic smile rested on his thin lips.
“Answer my question at once, girl, or the old man shall hang. Then we
will tear the house down but we will find him. Men, I’ll give her ten
seconds to decide, and then if she persist in her madness drag the old
scoundrel to the window where he shall hang----”
“Never!” cried the clear, sharp voice of the brave girl. “Dare to harm
him and you die, Captain Dermot!”
She had suddenly drawn a pistol, and its gleaming muzzle stared the
Confederate chief in the face.
He started back with a cry of terror.
Her beautiful countenance shone with excitement, but she gave no
evidence of fear.
Her tone was calm and measured as she said:
“You see that I am in earnest, Captain Dermot, and the first move that
is made signs your doom. I have undertaken to save the life of Curtis
Remington and I will do it though it costs me my own.”
A murmur of admiration went up from the spectators.
Before it had died away a crash was heard in the room and a portion of
one of the walls fell to the floor.
The next moment, to the amazement of the Confederates, Cavalry Curt
stood in their presence.
“I cannot allow this to continue,” he said, firmly.
“Miss Morland, you have my heartfelt thanks for your interference in my
behalf. But I will relieve you of all further anxiety. Captain Dermot,
since it is me that you want, I will surrender upon two conditions.”
A wicked smile played upon the dark visage of the latter.
No one in the room was more surprised at the scout’s appearance than
Colonel Morland.
“What are those conditions, pray, Sir Yank?” sneered Dermot.
“First, that you leave these people in peace. They are not to blame for
my presence here. Second, that I shall be treated as a prisoner of war.”
“Of course we intend to do all that you have asked. So you will
surrender? Men----”
“Hold! not too fast. Remember that I am not in your hands yet.”
“I should like to know what stands between us.”
“Your life!” was the cool reply.
“Have done with this fooling. Do you surrender or not? Girl, be careful
how you handle that pistol.”
“You promise that these people shall not be disturbed, sir?”
“I do.”
“And that you will take me to your headquarters before your commander?”
“Of course.”
“Then I give myself up as a prisoner of war.”
It required no second bidding for the soldiers to secure so valuable a
captive, and a minute later Cavalry Curt was in the power of his foes.
Colonel Morland had been freed, so that he breathed easier.
Mara looked on in silence, and though she had lowered the weapon she
still held it in her hand.
“I hope you will lose nothing by your conduct to-day,” said Captain
Dermot, more in mockery, we suspect, than sincerity.
She offered no reply.
“Come, men,” he continued, “we can afford to start for headquarters
now. We have done a good day’s work.”
“Good-day, Colonel Morland; I am sorry for the treatment we were forced
to give you, but it may learn you a lesson.”
A minute later the party were mounting their horses.
Curt had whispered a kind good-bye to her who had so nobly defended
him, as his captors bore him out of the room.
“Never fear for me,” he said. “I am a soldier who is not afraid to die.
Give my regards to Hal when you see him.”
She would fain have spoken to him, but the Confederate chief pushed her
rudely aside as he hurried past.
She stood at the window watching the cavalcade in their preparations to
start, while in spite of herself tears came into her eyes.
Buck Logan returned to the room for something he had forgotten, or at
least pretended to have left.
Mara turned at the sound of his footsteps.
“What, in tears!” he exclaimed in surprise. “I thought you were too
brave a girl for that.”
“Oh, Mr. Logan, what will they do with him?”
“He is a spy and will have to meet the fate of a spy, I suppose. But I
did not know he was your friend, Mara--Miss Morland.”
“I never saw him until to-day, but he was a friend to Harry. He seems
like a noble man.”
“Well enough I dare say. But do not let your sympathy rob you of your
reason. The boys are starting and I must not delay longer. I hope to
see you again soon.”
He had taken one of her hands in his and pressing it to his lips, he
hastily left the room.
“Mara, I don’t understand this,” said Colonel Morland, turning to her
as the horsemen rode away with the captive scout in their midst.
Not without some confusion did she tell him of the morning’s adventures.
Half an hour later she laid her hand on his shoulder saying:
“Grandpa, I am going to Dalton.”
“To Dalton?” he echoed. “What for, my child?”
“To save, if possible, the life of Curtis Remington.”
“Nay, nay, child; you are insane now, to think of it.”
Wild and impracticable as the venture seemed then, succeeding events
not only made it possible but feasible and imperative as well; of this
more anon.