Lieutenant Lambert rubbed his hands nervously together, shaking his head and swearing softly to himself the while, and fairly ached to make a suitable rejoinder; but the presence of Tom's mother, of whom he had always stood somewhat in awe, restrained him.
"We uns thought you was dead set agin the Yankees, and that you would be sorter glad to see them sailors made to stay on their boats," one of the Home Guards ventured to say at length.
"What business had you to think anything of the kind?" demanded Captain Tom. "A soldier's whole duty is to obey. He is nothing but a machine and his captain does his thinking for him. If I had wanted you to go to the city and fire on those gunboats I should have led you there myself. Lambert, you alone are to blame for this miserable state of affairs, and I will tell you for your satisfaction that you have killed your chances for a lieutenant's commission deader than a smelt. I'll never recommend you to the Governor."
"By gum! I won't stand no such talk as that!" yelled Lambert.
He sprang into the air and knocked his heels together, dashed his hat upon the ground and placed his foot upon the lower step, as if he were about to rush up to the gallery where Tom was standing. The latter's face grew as white as a sheet, but he could not think of yielding ground to a mutinous subordinate while his mother was looking on. In an instant the sword that hung at his side flashed from its scabbard.
"I haven't drawn it without a cause," said he, shaking the weapon over the railing almost in Lambert's face, "and I warn you that I shall not sheathe it with dishonor. That is my motto, and I shall live up to it, no matter what happens to me. Any more such actions on your part will shut you up in the guard-house on a bread and water diet."
It is not likely that the sight of Tom's sword or the threat which he could not have carried out had any effect upon Lieutenant Lambert, who was a noted rough and tumble fighter, but a glance at the face of the resolute woman who stood quietly on the porch above cowed him at once. Mrs. Randolph did not say a word, nor did she move an inch when Lambert acted as though he was about to charge up the steps, but there was something in her eye that brought the angry man to his senses. He backed away from the steps, picked up his hat, and remarked that he had always supposed a first lieutenant had a right to harass the enemy in any way he could; but he was rebuked and silenced before he had uttered half a dozen words because he forgot his manners and addressed his commanding officer by his Christian name.
Captain Tom was not slow to improve the advantage he had gained, and the way he scolded, threatened, and even insulted the Home Guards would have made a regular soldier open his eyes. He showed them that they did wrong when they followed Lambert to Baton Rouge without orders from their captain, and drew so harrowing a picture of the dangers and privations of the army life to which they had doomed themselves by their acts of disobedience and folly that he frightened the bravest of them; and when he thought he had impressed them sufficiently he wound up by declaring that nothing short of a solemn promise on their part to do better in future would induce him to break the agreement he had made with the Baton Rouge men. If they would take orders from him and nobody else he would stand between them and all harm.
"And mark my words, this is the very last warning I shall give you," said Captain Tom in conclusion. "The last one of you ought to be court-martialled and shot."