“‘You shall stay with me and be my son, and I will avenge you on your adversaries.’ It was as if the voice of a god of Olympus had spoken.”
“Are you an enthusiast, Wing?” inquired Col. Rosenthal.
“Perhaps, sir. Then, at least, when I looked up and saw tears of compassion standing in brave Corsoni’s eyes—compassion for me, come to his camp to betray him, I felt for a moment as if I were the caitiff and traitor, and he were the hero and patriot; and I assure you, my Colonel, that I had to remember he was in arms against our government before I could reconcile myself to the part I had to play.”
“One might think you had fallen in love with the interesting brigand!”
“That would have been quite impossible for me, sir! Yet I do not wonder that his wife did! nor that she keeps close to his side through all the evils and dangers of his wild life!”
“You talk like a woman, Wing,” exclaimed the colonel, laughing.
“Perhaps I do, sir; but I acted like a man! like a very man!” retorted Wing, sarcastically; “for I betrayed the host of whom I pretended to seek refuge, and who promised to protect me and avenge my supposed injuries!”
“And now you talk like one particular woman whom I could name! But proceed, my boy! How did you get on in the camp of the Free Sword?”
“Very successfully! He said that I was not stout enough for their hard, military duty, so he placed me in attendance upon his wife. But I had ample opportunities of finding out their plans; for the Free Sword had no secrets from the devoted companions of his dangers. I learned, little by little, that there was certainly a plan on foot to consolidate the three great guerrilla bands, to make a raid into Pennsylvania or Maryland; they had not decided which was to be the theatre of the invasion. They were waiting for the arrival of Colonel Goldsborough, who was daily expected.
“Go on.”