Entering the room he closed the door behind them, and made a minute survey of the windows, and other points of vantage for eavesdroppers. This done, he returned to where Rachel was watching his operations with much curiosity, and said:
“Let's set down. I guess no one'll overhear us, ef we're keerful.
“Hev ye enny idee who I am?” he asked abruptly, as they sat down on one of the rude benches with which the room was furnished.
“Not the slightest,” she answered, “except that you appear on the roll as 'James Brown, No. 23,' no company or regiment given.”
“Very good. D'ye reckon thet enny o' them in thar hev?”—pointing over his shoulder with his thumb to the ward.
“Of course I can not tell as to that. I never hear them say anything about you. They seem to think that you are one of the loyal East Tennesseans that are plentiful about here.”
“I've been afeered fur the last few days that some uv 'em were Rebels in disguise, an' thet they sort o' suspicioned me. I hev seed two on 'em eyein' me mouty hard. One has a red head, an' 'tother a long black beard.”
“I can perhaps set your anxiety at rest on that score. They ARE Southerners, but loyal ones. They were forced into the Rebel army, but made their escape at the first opportunity. They naturally watch every Southern-looking man with great interest, fearing that he may be an unpleasant acquaintance.”
“Desarters from the Rebel army, be they? Thet makes me so'. I thot I'd seen 'em afore, an' this makes me sartin. They're mouty bad pills, an' they hain't heah fur no good, but whar did I see 'em? In some Rebel camp somewhar? No; now I remember. Ef I hain't powerfully fooled them's the two laddie-bucks thet Harry Glen an' me gobbled up one fine mornin' an' tuck inter Wildcat. They're bad aigs, ef ther ever war bad aigs.”
“Harry Glen, did you say? What do you know of Harry Glen?” Her heart was in her mouth.