Tracy himself seemed in anything but a good humor and greeted the two with a gruff “good morning.”
“Where are you off to?” Harriot inquired innocently.
“Hunting!” he answered shortly, then turning to Dorothea, “Won’t you wish me luck?”
“That depends upon what you are to hunt,” she answered quickly.
“There is only one quarry in war-times,” he answered shortly, and snapping his sword to his belt he ran down the steps and mounted his horse.
Dorothea’s eyes followed him and it came into her mind that after all he was going upon a dangerous errand and might not come back.
“I wish you a safe return,” she called up to him.
He glanced down at her quickly, and a bright smile came over his face.
“Faith, that’s a better wish than the other,” he cried, gayly. “It will take a fine lot of Yankees to keep me away if you’re wanting me to come back!” And with a smile he rode off at the head of his troop.
The girls looked after them and Dorothea felt a little glow of warmth in her heart at Val’s words. Perhaps, after all, he did value her good wishes for his safe return and, yes, she admitted to herself that she did not want anything to happen to him. And there had been a good deal of earnestness in his tone, as if indeed he had meant what he said.