“You dirty Yankee!” he said.
Dick started. No one had ever before addressed him with such venom.
“If by Yankee you mean loyalty to the Union then I'm one,” he said, “and I'm proud of it. What's more I'm willing to tell who I am. My name is Richard Mason. I'm from Kentucky, and I'm a lieutenant in the regiment of Colonel Arthur Winchester, which occupies the building behind us.”
“From Kentucky and consorting with Yankees! A lot of you are doing it, and you ought to be on our side! We hate you for it more than we do the real Yankees!”
“It's our right to choose, and we've chosen. And now, since you're talking so much about right and wrong, who may you be, Mr. Firebug?”
Even in the dark Dick saw his opponent's face flush, and his eyes flash with deadly hostility.
“My name is Victor Woodville,” he replied, “and my father is Colonel John Woodville, C.S.A. He is the owner of the house in which your infamous Yankee regiment is encamped.”
“And which you have tried to burn?”
“I'd rather see it burn than shelter Yankees. You'd burn it anyway later on. Grant's troops have already begun to use the torch.”
“At any rate you'll go before our colonel. He'll want to ask you a lot of questions.”