MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
I returned quietly, "than to be utterly indifferent toward me."
I caught her sudden look of surprise, the quick uplift of her face, but before she could find expression in words, I had slipped down the stairs to the hall. Masterson was in the doorway of the parlor, and stepped out into the hall as I came down.
"I did n't know where you could have gone, sir," he said, evidently pleased to see me again. "I went up stairs there once, but didn't see no signs of you anywhere."
"You were on the second story?"
"Yes; one of those women was makin' such a racket, I went up to see what the trouble might be. Seems she'd got locked in somehow, and I had to bust the latch to get her out. Blame pretty girl, too, but Reb clean through, I guess, for she hardly give me a word o' thanks, an' would n't come downstairs."
So that was the manner in which she had achieved her release! Simple enough, and all because I had forgotten the first principles of a soldier, the protection of the rear.
"Yes, she's Rebel, Masterson, and, as it happens, I locked her in there myself. However, there's no great harm done. But we've got business before us now. Leave two troopers at each of those front windows, and assemble all the others in the hall here at once."
They came straggling forth from the various doorways, blackened with powder smoke and sleepy-eyed from the long night vigil, yet a fairly tough-looking bunch of
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