"And if he had shot me?"
"Then, I think, I should send him away and never see him again."
Allin Wharton wondered how it would be in the future if they should meet on the field of battle. For he had just wrung a reluctant consent from his father that he should respond to his country's call, whose need would never be more urgent than now.
"I wonder if you are on the side of the King? It would seem so natural with a brother in the ranks," and he recalled the entertainment in his honor at Madam Wetherill's hands. Polly, his sister, had thought the captain charming.
"I am a rebel," she said proudly. "And I shall never be content until he comes over to the side of the country, to the buff and blue instead of the red."
"Surely, surely; you are a brave, patriotic girl. Wish me success in case I want to join the rebel army," with a half-embarrassed smile. It was not wisdom to confess all one's plans.
She put out her right hand. It was the other that had been hurt. "I wish thee success. That means victory and a safe return," she replied with sweet solemnity.