The man was silent for a moment; then he said more gently: “My dear young lady, we had what we supposed to be reliable information on the subject of our deserter. One of your own men told us we should find him here.”
Lutie gave a smothered exclamation, and Lettice, dropping her hands from her tear-stained face, said, “Could you point him out to me?” She would have her brother Tom get as far on his way as possible; it was policy to detain these men, and she would know who was this snake in the grass.
“Yes; I think there would be no difficulty in identifying him,” replied the man. “Go out, Clarke, and see if you can find the fellow. Bring him in here, and see what he will say when confronted by his mistress. If the fellow lied—” The click of a trigger told what would happen.
Lettice with bowed head waited results. Lutie, trembling in every limb, cast scared glances at her mistress.
In a few minutes was heard the tread of the returning soldier, and Lutie fell on her knees, clasping Lettice’s skirt. “Spare him, Miss Letty, spare him,” she murmured.
“Get up, wench,” cried one of the men. “Let your mistress alone. See here, captain, she’s not a bad-looking jade. I’ll help myself to her, by your leave, and ship her to my wife.”
Lutie leaped to her feet and rushed toward the in-coming figures of Jubal and his guard. Jubal, with dogged expression, came slinking in behind the soldier. “Found him easy enough,” said the latter. “Here, get out of the way, girl.” He gave Lutie a kick.
“Save me! Save me, Jubal!” Lutie wailed. “Dey gwine sen’ me off, an’ I nuvver come back no mo’. Oh, save me, Jubal!”
“Shut up,” cried the captain. “Here, boy, didn’t you tell us there was a deserter around here somewhere?”
“Ya-as suh, I—I—done said so,” Jubal stammered.