GERTRUDE. You are to be mine again, Jack, mine! [Resting her cheek against the horse's head and patting it.] The Colonel has promised it to me.
KERCHIVAL. Ah! [With a start, as he reads the paper. GERTRUDE raises her head and looks at him.] This is General Sheridan's horse, on his way to Winchester, for the use of the General when he returns from Washington.
GERTRUDE. General Sheridan's horse? He is mine!
KERCHIVAL. I have no authority to detain him. He must go on.
GERTRUDE. I have hold of Jack's bridle, and you may order your men to take out their sabres and cut my hand off.
KERCHIVAL. [Approaches her and gently takes her hand as it holds the bridle.] I would rather have my own hand cut off, Gertrude, than bring tears to your eyes, but there is no alternative! [GERTRUDE releases the bridle and turns front, brushing her eyes, her hand still held in his, his back to the audience. He returns order, and motions TROOPERS out; they move out with horse. GERTRUDE starts after the horse; KERCHIVAL turns quickly to check her.] You forget—that—you are my prisoner.
GERTRUDE. I will go!
KERCHIVAL. General Buckthorn left me special instructions—[Taking out wallet and letter.]—in case you declined to obey my orders—
GERTRUDE. Oh, Colonel! Please don't read that letter. [She stands near him, dropping her head. He glances up at her from the letter. She glances up at him and drops her eyes again.] I will obey you.
KERCHIVAL. [Aside.] What the deuce can there be in that letter?