Grace was excused, and the men, over their cigars, entered into a general discussion of the war, and how it would terminate, Mr. Chittenden holding that the independence of the South was already as good as secured.
As they were about to go, Lawrence said: "Mr. Chittenden, you may think it a poor return for your hospitality, but I came here tonight with the full intention of arresting you."
Mr. Chittenden could only gasp, "What for?"
"Because you are a dangerous man to the cause I serve. I have learned much while I have been here. Not only are you an agent of the Confederate Government to gather supplies, but your house has been a haven for some of the worst guerrillas which infest the State. Even the infamous Porter found rest and shelter here when he fled South."
Mr. Chittenden stood pale and trembling, for he knew Lawrence was speaking the truth; but he was thinking more of Grace than of himself.
"My God! what will become of my daughter, if I am dragged away to a Federal prison?" he cried.
"Mr. Chittenden, do not fear," answered Lawrence. "I can never arrest the father of such a girl as your daughter, and leave her unprotected. She has saved you, and for her sake be more careful in the future."
"For her sake, I thank you; for myself, I have no apologies to make for what I have done," Mr. Chittenden replied, somewhat haughtily. But in his heart he was not sorry Grace had displayed that little flag.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Lawrence, when he and Dan were alone. "What a girl! She is grand, and such a lady. Who would dream of finding such a girl in the Ozarks? And she is as lovely as a picture—more beautiful than many who reign as belles in St. Louis."
"Look here, Captain," said Dan, solemnly, "don't be falling in love with every pretty face you see. What about that St. Louis girl you are always getting letters from—Lola—confounded childish name—I think you call her. And I've heard you rave about a certain Dorothy, with golden hair. Let the girls alone; they are no good. I never knew a fellow in love who was any good. They go around sighing and writing poetry and making confounded idiots of themselves. I agree that Miss Chittenden is a mighty good-looking girl; but how do you know she isn't fooling us—shook that little flag in our faces to save her father?"