“I regret very much that I have nothing of the sort. You know that we cavalry rangers, out after guerrillas, carry no provisions. We look to live on the country,” said Colonel Rosenthal.
The poor preacher laid his thin hands over his empty bread-basket, and groaned aloud. Even Elfie pitied him.
“Never mind, Mr. Simmons,” she said, “you heard the order given by Colonel Rosenthal. The men will be here presently, and you may depend they will not come empty-handed. We shall have a sumptuous supper presently.”
With this piece of comfort the preacher tried to content himself.
“And now, Elfie,” said Justin Rosenthal.
“Well, I suppose you heard that our picnic party was surprised by the guerrillas, and that I was carried off?”
“Yes, I heard of that, Elfie, through a spy I sent into the camp of the Free Sword. Tell me, my dear little friend, what happened after the spy had left,” said Justin.
And Elfie began and related in detail all her adventures while a captive among the guerrillas. She told the story with firmness, and even with humor, until she came to describe her forced marriage, when she suddenly burst into tears of rage and shame, and wept and sobbed as if her heart would break.
When Justin had heard the whole story of the marriage, he laid his hand upon Elfie’s bowed black head in a protecting and reassuring manner, and laughed as he said:
“Why, Elfie, the marriage is not binding upon you, unless you choose to make it so by yourself acknowledging its validity. If you protest against it as a forced marriage, and bring this clergyman here as your witness, it cannot hold good.”