“Then tell me all about it, my dear. Come, now, quietly like a Christian child,” said the clergyman, in a soothing manner, and speaking with much more calmness than he really felt, for the words of Erminie had surprised and alarmed him.
Erminie made a great effort to control her agitation, and then began to tell him of the visit of Alberta Corsoni.
And Dr. Sales put a constraint upon himself, and listened composedly, without making a single comment upon the narrative, lest he might increase the excitement under which his companion was laboring.
Erminie faithfully related all that had occurred—the visit to the President’s house, the muttered threats of the guerrilla’s wife, “I will have my husband pardoned, or do that which shall place me on the scaffold by his side,” her own alarm at hearing these awful words, the difficulty with which she got the desperate woman out of the White House, the subsequent apology made by the woman for her wicked threats, the paragraph relating to the escape of Vittorio Corsoni, the excessive joy of Alberta, and her secret flight from the house.
“Now,” said Erminie, in conclusion, “Alberta’s apology for her sinful threats seemed very earnest and might have been quite sincere, and but for her gloomy looks, and muttered threats and strange behavior, I should have received it without a doubt.”
The clergyman slowly shook his head, but made no remark.
“My mind has been distracted with grief and perplexity,” continued Erminie; “for on the one hand it seems beyond measure cruel and treacherous to lodge information against a poor, unfortunate woman who has sought the refuge of my home, who may be quite innocent of any wrong intention, and who may suffer great injustice from a mere suspicion. And on the other hand, the probability of her insanity, and the bare possibility of such an atrocious—oh, I cannot speak the word! But you see I feel as if I dare not withhold this information from the authorities,” exclaimed Erminie, shuddering.
“No, you dare not withhold it,” said the clergyman. “It is your solemn duty to go to the Provost Marshal, and tell him exactly what you have told me. It will be for him to judge whether there is sufficient cause for pursuing and arresting this miserable young woman.”
“It is one of the most repugnant duties I ever had to perform. Oh, the office of a spy or an informer is very, very abhorrent to my feelings. And she was my old schoolmate, and friend and guest. Ah, it is very bitter!” said Erminie, trembling with emotion.
“I know how hard it is, my child. But if you should not perform this duty, think what might happen. Erminie, my dear, next to our duty to God is our duty to our country, and neither friends, guests nor kinsfolk should stand between us and that. Now, go get your bonnet on, my child, and I will myself attend you to the Provost Marshal’s office to lodge this information,” said Dr. Sales.