“Come, come, my darling girl, why do you keep up this comedy? Do you think that I could be jealous of your little champion? Do you think that I believe for a moment in your professions either of regard for him or detestation for me? No, dear Elfie. I have a confidence in your love and faith that your words and actions cannot shake. Listen, my darling girl—”
“I don’t want to hear a word you have to say, Albert Goldsborough.”
“But, my dear, in common justice you must. Listen, Elfie—for we must march soon, and the time for explanation and defence is short. I have told you that, loving you beyond measure, and believing in your unaltered love for me, I could not leave you among the Yankees. I could not, Elfie. And so, at the imminent risk of my life, and the lives of all my band, I crossed the river, and brought you off from between the very teeth of the enemy.”
“You have bragged of all that before,” sneered Elfie.
“I could not have believed in your persistent opposition to my wishes, Elfie; else, perhaps, I should have spared you and myself this trial.”
“When you made the discovery, why did you not send me back to my friends?” demanded Elfie.
“It was too late even if it had been in other respects possible to do so! Once having run away with you, and above all having retained you for days in my custody, there was no retreat! The departure of Alberta this morning, leaving you alone, the only woman in the guerrilla camp, made your immediate marriage a necessity. And so, Elfie, I have married you, even by force; but I trust to win your forgiveness by forbearance. The deed is done, Elfie, that makes you my wife! But now that it is done, you shall be as sacred to me as my sister. And more so! for I will never touch your lips, or even take your hand again, without your leave! That you will forgive me and love me I am sure—sure as that you are woman! We shall march in an hour, and of course you go with us! I will do everything I possibly can do for your happiness, except to give you up to the Yankees, to be taught to hate and despise your old State and old friends! You are a child of the South and belong to your mother, and must live among her children.”
Elfie still sobbed, but now, as it seemed, with less of rage then of grief.
He was still at her feet.
“Get up!” she said at length, impatiently. “You’ve made a brute of yourself, but you needn’t make a fool of yourself by remaining in that absurd position, Albert Goldsborough! Get up!”