But Captain Delfield could not know that his loyal little daughter would not tell her story, or even the place where she lived for fear that by so doing she might endanger her father’s safety.
CHAPTER XV
ROXY’S RIDE TO SHARPSBURG
The September twilight had settled into dusk when the Confederate soldier left the country road, turning his horse into a grove of sycamores that bordered the Antietam River several miles below the Miller farm.
The newcomers were instantly greeted by two other soldiers; and when Roxy’s companion called out: “Here’s a Yankee prisoner, director of a signalling corps,” they looked at him in amazement, and he set Roxy down in front of them and continued: “Right here! This girl is a Yankee, and she was stationed on a high ledge, has been there for days, keeping watch on the road, and twice each day signalling, probably to some Yank, so that at the first sight of Lee’s army he can be off to bring McClellan after us,” and he frowned so fiercely that Roxy found it hard to keep back her tears.
The two other soldiers looked at her gravely, and the elder of the two said kindly:
“Well, she will probably tell us all about it, won’t you, little girl?”
“No, sir!” Roxy replied, and at this the man who had brought her to the camp laughed.
“She’s well trained to keep the secret; not a word out of her,” he said.
“I have broiled a couple of chickens over the coals, and have some melons; we’ll have a bite to eat, and after supper I reckon little Miss Yankee will tell us just what the signals mean, and then I’ll take her home,” said the elderly soldier, smiling at Roxy.
“Sit down,” said the other gruffly, pointing to a stump near by, and Roxy obeyed. When one of the men brought her food she shook her head. She was not hungry, and while she watched her companions eat she looked around the little grove, and began to wonder if she could not escape and make her way home; and the elder soldier, as if reading her thoughts, shook his head at her smilingly.