Mr. Osborne was the first to recover from his surprise. “I know not who you are,” he said, “but Lieutenant Haines is my guest, and I will have no violence. Lower that weapon!”
Without doing so, Calhoun answered, “If I have done anything contrary to the wishes of those who have so kindly befriended me, I am sorry; but I could not withstand the temptation to claim my own. As it is, I will bid you good day.”
Thus saying, he dashed past them, and snatching the bridle of his horse from the negro boy, he vaulted into the saddle and was away at full speed.
For a moment not a word was spoken, and then Lieutenant Haines turned on Mr. Osborne and said, bitterly, “I congratulate you on the success of your plot. I will not be fool enough again to take the word of a Southern gentleman.”
Mr. Osborne flushed deeply, but before he could reply, his daughter sprang in front of him, and faced Lieutenant Haines with flashing eye.
“I will not have my father accused of deception and falsehood,” she cried. “He knew nothing of that Confederate being concealed in the house. I alone am to blame, and I told you nothing. I strove to entertain you and keep you from searching the house, and I accomplished my purpose.”
“And you got those letters from me to give to him?”
“Yes.”
Lieutenant Haines groaned. “It may be some satisfaction to you,” he said, “to know that this may mean my undoing, disgrace, a dishonorable dismissal from the service.”
“I shall take no pleasure in your dishonor,” she exclaimed, the color slowly mounting to her cheeks. “I did not intend that Lieutenant Pennington should show himself. It was his rashness that has brought all this trouble.”