The girl’s wits were so much more nimble than mine that she had staggered under the news, recovered herself and done much to remove the boxes from the trap-door before I could turn to help her. Then it hurt me a little, I confess, that she had not a look for me, or a word. All her thoughts were with Marion. She flew to the ladder, descended it, and vanished, as if I had not existed, or as if I had not for twenty-four hours spent myself in the effort to undo the misfortune which I had brought upon her!
It was foolish of me to feel this, and more foolish to resent it. But I did both and that so keenly, that I was in no haste to descend. The news was good, her father was safe, and that was enough for her. That was all for which she cared. Why should I go down among them, whoever they were! There are times when we are all children, and stand aloof in sullenness, saying that we will not play.
True, I had not done much for her—she had played her own game, it seemed. But I had done what I could.
So it was Marion who presently, cool and neat and smoking the eternal cigar, climbed up to me. He took in the wretched room with an appreciative eye. “Home of the patriot!” he said, smiling. “This is what you drive us to, Major.”
“It’s as full of fleas,” I cried peevishly, “as a starving dog!”
“I know,” he said. “The Carolina flea is grand. But I suppose that you’ve not heard the news? We’ve hoodwinked you again, Craven.” This time his tone was more grave but his eyes still twinkled. “Wilmer walked past your sentries at nine o’clock last night, and he’s not a hundred miles away at this moment and as free as air.”
“Thank God!” I said. And I meant it.
“Yes, you can’t fight a people, Major,” he continued. “You can’t fight a people. You may be what you like on your side of the big water, but here you’re no more than a garrison! You’re like a blind man plunging hither and thither among people who see!”
“Suppose you descend to particulars,” I said coldly.
“The particular is Con, God bless her!” he answered. “There’s an American girl for you! There’s a girl of spirit! Pity,” he continued demurely, “that she’s a rebel! She wasn’t blind. By heaven, there wasn’t a stone she left unturned from the moment you left the Bluff! She sent to me and drew me into her plans. She sent to Levi, and drew him in—silly girl—as if any good could come of those rogues! She drew you into the scheme and made use, good use of you, Major. But all the time she was her own best friend. She won a twenty-four hours respite from your commander—that was life or death to her. Then, after learning through her nigger and others the ways of the place, she cast dust in your folks’ eyes by riding away to appeal to Cornwallis—it was uncommonly clever that! And there, I give your folks credit—you can play the gentleman when you please, Major. If all of you played it and played it always,” he went on with a smile, “things would be very different south of the Dan River. I should not be web-footed with living in the swamps of the Pee Dee; and Sumter—” his smile broadened—“would not be sore with riding bare-backed horses in his shirt.”