The prospect of talking with such a host as Mr. Baron pleased him immensely. He scarcely knew to whom he was indebted for the courtesy, but rightly surmised that it was Mrs. Whately, since she, with good reason, felt under obligations to him. Even more than an adventurous scouting expedition he relished a situation full of humor, and such, his presence at Mr. Baron's supper-table promised to be. He knew his entertainment would be gall and wormwood to the old Bourbon and his wife, and that the courtesy had been wrung from them by his own forbearance. It might be his only opportunity to see Miss Lou and suggest the liberty he had brought to her as well as to the slaves.
Mrs. Whately met him on the veranda and said politely, "Lieutenant Scoville, you have proved yourself to be a generous and forbearing enemy. If you feel that you can meet frank enemies who wish to return courtesy with courtesy, we shall be glad to have you take supper with us."
"Yes," added Mr. Baron, "my sister has convinced me, somewhat against my will, I must in honesty admit, that such hospitality as we can offer under the circumstances is your due."
"I appreciate the circumstances, Mr. Baron," was the grave reply, "and honor the Southern trait which is so strong that even I can receive the benefit of it. Your courtesy, madam, will put me at ease."
Miss Lou, thinking it possible that she might see the Northern officer again, had taken her own way of convincing him that he was still within the bounds of civilization, for she made a toilet more careful than the one with which she had deigned to grace the appointed day of her wedding. She could scarcely believe her eyes when, entering the supper room a little late, she saw Scoville already seated at the table. He instantly rose and made her a ceremonious bow, thus again indicating that their past relations should be completely ignored in the presence of others. She therefore gravely returned his salutation and took her place without a word, but her high color did not suggest indifference to the situation. Mr. Baron went through the formal "grace" as usual and then said, "Ahem! you will admit, sir, that it is a little embarrassing to know just how to entertain one with whom we have some slight difference of opinion."
"Perhaps such embarrassment will be removed if we all speak our minds freely," replied Scoville, pleasantly. "Pardon the suggestion, but the occasion appears to me favorable to a frank and interesting exchange of views. If my way of thinking were wholly in accord with yours my words could be little better than echoes. I should be glad to feel that my presence was no restraint whatever."
"I'm inclined to think you are right, sir," added Mrs. Whately. "It would be mere affectation on our part to disguise our thoughts and feelings. With neighbors, and even with friends, we are often compelled to do this, but I scarcely see why we should do so with an open enemy."
"And such I trust you will find me, madam, an OPEN enemy in the better sense of the adjective. As far as I can, I will answer questions if you wish to ask any. I will tell you honestly all the harm I meditate and outline clearly the extent of my hostility, if you will do the same," and he smiled so genially that she half smiled also as she answered:
"To hear you, sir, one would scarcely imagine you to be an enemy at all. But then we know better."
"Yes, sir, pardon me, we do," said Mr. Baron, a little stiffly. "For one, I would like your honest statement of just what harm you and your command meditate. I am one who would rather face and prepare for whatever I shall be compelled to meet."