“And have all Colonel Goldsborough’s force re-crossed?”
“All ma’am.”
“Then I am glad the storm is coming up! The river will rise and the fords be impassable, and so pursuit will be cut off, even if the enemy should be so mad as to wish to ‘beard the lion in his den.’ You can retire now, Gill.”
The young guerrilla pulled his forelock by way of making a bow, and then left the room.
“Come, Elfie, draw up your chair,” said Alberta, as she set the teapot on the table.
“I would like to wash my hands first,” said Elfie, holding up her fingers.
“Good—Heavens!” exclaimed Alberta, in real, downright consternation. “What have you been about, Elfie? Who have you been butchering? I am accustomed to the sight of blood, but I never saw such a pair of hands in all my life! What ever have you been doing with them?”
“I have been proving how well I love Guerrilla Goldsborough, and how willing I was to be carried off by him. I have heard that it is considered an ignominy for a man to lose his ears, and I knew that Guerrilla Goldsborough deserved such ignominy; and I have been doing my best to inflict it upon him!” replied Elfie, as she went to the wash basin which Alberta had filled with water for her.
“You do not mean to say that you tried to tear his ears off with your nails!” exclaimed Alberta, in amazement.
“If he has got any ears left it isn’t my fault,” replied Elfie, defiantly, as she wiped her hands and sat down to the tea table.