Ignorant of the great event of the day, not perceiving the old flag, and supposing that he had been called out to be shot, Hyde walked up to Vance, and said: “Kunnle, you look like a high-tone gemmleman, and afore I’m shot I want ter make a confidential request.”
“Well, sir, what is it?” said Vance, shading his face with his cap so as not to be recognized. “Speak quick. I can’t spare you three minutes.”
“Wall, Kunnle, it’s jes this: I’ve a sister, yer see, in Alabamy, jest out of Montgomery; her name’s Dorothy Rusk. She’s a widder with six childern; one on ’em an idiot, one a cripple, and the eldest gal in a consumption. Dorothy has had a cruel hard time on it, as you may reckon, an’ I’ve ollerz paid her rent and a leetle over till this cussed war broke out, since when I’ve been so hard up I’ve had ter scratch gravel thunderin’ lively to git my own grub. Them Confed’rate rags that I ’propriated, I meant to send to Dorothy; but the fogies, they war too quick for me. Wall, ter come ter the pint: I want you ter write a letter ter Dorothy, jes tellin’ her that the reason why Delancy can’t remit is that Delancy has been shot; and tellin’ her he sent his love and all that—whar you can’t come it too strong, Kunnle, for yer see Dorothy an’ I, we was ’bout the same age, and used ter make mud-pies together, and sail our boats together down thar in the old duck-pond, when we was childern; an’ so yer see—”
Vance looked into his face. Yes, the battered old reprobate was trying to gulp down his agitation, and there were tears rolling down his cheeks. Vance was touched.
“Hyde, don’t you know me?” he said.
“What! Mr. Vance? Mr. Vance!”
“Nobody else, Hyde. He comes here a United States officer, you see. New Orleans has surrendered to Uncle Sam. Look at that flag. Instead of being shot, you are set at liberty. Here’s your old friend, Peek.”
The knees of Colonel Delancy Hyde smote each other, and his florid face grew pale. Flesh and blood he could encounter well as any man, but a ghost was a piling on of something he hadn’t bargained for. Yet there palpably before him stood Peek, the identical Peek he believed to have been drowned in the Mississippi some fifteen years back.
“Wall, how in creation—”
“It’s all right, Hyde,” interrupted Vance. “And now if you want that sister of yours provided for, you just keep as close to my shadow as you can.”