I found Chudleigh in a tent, where they had moved him from the cellar that he might get the fresher air. Kate, her mother, and an English surgeon were there. The surgeon had just fastened some fresh bandages over the wound. Chudleigh was stronger and better than I had expected to find him. He even held out his hand to me with the smile of one who has met an enemy and respects him.
“I will be all right soon, Shelby,” he said, “so the doctor tells me, if you rebels know how to treat a wounded prisoner well.”
“In a month Captain Chudleigh will be as well as he ever was,” said the surgeon.
I was very glad on Kate’s account. Presently she walked out of the tent, and I followed her.
“Kate,” I asked, “when will the marriage occur?”
“What marriage?” she asked very sharply.
“Yours and Chudleigh’s.”
“Never!”
“What!” I exclaimed in surprise. “Are you not going to marry Chudleigh?”