"We all could not help seeing that," cried Miss Lou eagerly.
"I could not help seeing also, Miss Baron, that you exposed yourself to danger like a veteran, and I was anxious indeed lest a stray bullet might harm you. It was well you were not armed or we might have fared worse," and there was so much mirth in his dark eyes that she turned away to hide her conscious blushes.
"Well, sir," resumed Mrs. Whately with emotion, "it is not easy to bless our enemies in this cruel war of aggression, but I must express my gratitude to one who stayed his hand when my son's life was within his power."
"I trust, madam, he may live to care for you in your declining years, and to become a good loyal citizen."
"He is loyal, sir," replied Mrs. Whately with gentle dignity, "to the only authority he recognizes," and with a bow she retired.
Miss Lou lingered a moment and said earnestly, "I thank you. You are very considerate."
His face so lighted up that it was almost boyish in its expression of pleasure as he answered with the pride and confidence of one sure of sympathy, "This is a jolly day for me. I was made an officer this morning, and now, best of all, I am paying a little of my debt to you."
She put her finger on her lips and shook her head, but the smile she gave him over her shoulder was reassuring. He promptly started on a round among his men again to see that the prisoners were properly guarded, and that all was going as he wished.
"Louise," said Mrs. Baron, as the girl appeared in the parlor door, "it would be far more decorous if you would remain here with your uncle and myself."
Miss Lou took a seat in the darkest corner that she might be less open to observation while she calmed the tumult of her feelings. So much had happened that she must catch her breath and think what it all meant. Mr. Baron began gloomily, "Well, the dreaded hour which I hoped and prayed never to see has come. We are helpless and in the hands of our enemies. Only God knows what an hour will bring forth—"