A flag of truce, honored alike by the Confederacy and the Union.
And yet when the moment came for her to find confirmation of her worst suspicions, she was shocked. Her walk through the woods the day before had been taken without thought of Dorothea and she had come across her cousin quite unexpectedly. But she had seen a man disappear into the bushes and was sure that he wore a dark blue uniform.
April’s first impulse had been to accuse the girl then and there, but her sense of justice held her back. Perhaps Dorothea would offer voluntary explanation, though she did not think this a possibility. Once having resisted the natural impulse to speak out, she had time to consider the situation more calmly, and concluded that she would lose nothing by waiting, and perhaps might gain much. If the man she had seen was a Union spy, and she began firmly to believe that he was, to capture him would be a service for the cause and a complete case against Dorothea. Moreover, in order to do this, she must not let her cousin have the faintest idea that she was suspected. She argued that her arrival upon the scene in the woods had interrupted an interview that in all likelihood would be renewed at the first opportunity, and April meant to be there and catch them red-handed.
Next morning, therefore, when she saw her cousin leave the house dressed for a walk, April seized a hat to follow, thinking at first that the trail would lead to Coulter Woods. It was obvious at once that Dorothea had no intention of going in that direction but was bending her steps to the village, and she changed her plans. Plainly Dorothea had no intention then of meeting the Federal soldier; but April felt that her cousin’s errand was of importance and that she must know what it was.
In the streets of so small a village it would be wellnigh impossible to spy upon her undetected. She was especially anxious now that Dorothea should not have the slightest inkling of the fact that she was being observed, and to meet April in town, on foot, would be unusual enough to cause comment. Some thought of sending her maid, Merry, occurred to April, but she shook her head, feeling that it was impossible to have a servant spy upon her cousin. Whatever was to be done she must do herself.
Turning into the house she ran upstairs, picking up, as she went, a pair of battered field-glasses that hung on the wall near the hall-stand. Then she went directly to the garret and dropped to her knees on the floor beside the moon-shaped window at one end. The glass was gray with dust, but her handkerchief was not the filmy bit of linen and lace it would have been some years before and she did not hesitate to use it upon one of the small panes. Next she adjusted her glasses and looked into the principal street of the town, where she could distinguish clearly all who passed.
This was no new game for April. As a child she had often watched from this garret to see what was going on, and she had no difficulty now in picking out the various buildings. The Court House was the most prominent, and she thought of the day when Secession was declared and the “Bonny blue flag” made by Miss Fanny Andrews had been raised over it. She commanded a full view of the business portion of the town, but she had time to wonder if Judge Andrews, sturdily loyal to the Union, had ever learned of his daughter’s part in the wild enthusiasm that had gone on while he sat behind darkened windows, before Dorothea walked across the square, putting a stop to all such memories.
“She may be going to call upon Mrs. Robertson,” April thought, and then, a moment later, “Oh, how stupid of me. Of course he would need money!”
She had seen her cousin walk purposefully into the bank, and her conclusions were natural. There was no further need to spy just then. It would be Dorothea’s next adventure that would be important. April put her glasses in their case and, slipping downstairs, hung them in their place. Thereafter she kept out of sight, feeling certain that Dorothea would do nothing more until after dinner.