“In what manner?”
“He can send me under a flag of truce to the nearest Federal fort.”
“Ah, dear Elfie, would the flag of truce from a guerrilla chief be respected by your Federal officers? Would that of Corsoni—of all others, of Corsoni—an outlaw with a price on his head? What are you thinking of, my poor child?” said Alberta.
“I am sorry Vittorio is outlawed. Sorrier still that he ever did anything to place himself in such a dreadful position. But let whoever may be outlawed or inlawed, I am resolved to be in the Federal lines before night,” said Elfie, throwing the cover off her, preparatory to rising.
As she did so, she noticed the large printed U. S. on the head of the blanket. While she was staring at it, Alberta laughed and said:
“Yes, that is a Yankee blanket. Why, my child, the Yankee manufacturers work for us now, just as they did before the war, only now we don’t pay them for it. Why, Elfie, if it were not for dashing and successful raids upon Yankee encampments, our soldiers would go into battle as bare-backed as the Berserkers of old.”
Elfie stepped down upon the floor and began to make her toilet, while Alberta carefully spread up the bed and opened the window behind it.
“It is not what either of us were brought up to, Elfie, this breakfasting in our bed-room; but I have endured much greater hardships than this.”
Elfie shrugged her shoulders in silence, and went on dressing.
And by the time she was ready for breakfast, breakfast was ready for her.