"What can it mean?" asked Wallace, in an uneasy tone. Then he went on, hopefully, "Perhaps the Johnnies have given up the attack."
They walked to the stairway and, as they went down, saw that the Sergeant had opened the shattered front door and was standing on the porch outside, while a Confederate officer, with a bit of dirty white rag tied to the point of his sabre, was advancing up the walk toward him. Something seemed to warn Al to keep out of sight and he stepped into a corner where he could hear but could not be seen.
"What do you want?" demanded the Sergeant, gruffly, as the Confederate reached him. "Be quick, or we'll open fire again."
"Your commander has surrendered the city and garrison, Sergeant," replied the Confederate, who wore the insignia of a major on his coat collar. "You are prisoners of war. You have made a very gallant defence. Permit me to congratulate you."
"Surrendered?" cried the Sergeant, in utter amazement. "Man alive, we haven't begun to fight! We'll show you whether we've surrendered. Get back to your lines, sir, before we fire!"
He stepped into the house to slam the door in the Major's face, but the latter raised his hand with a gesture of authority.
"Just a moment," he said, soothingly. "I tell you the truth. Colonel Harding has surrendered. We have broken through your lines on the north and east of the city. There was nothing else for him to do."
The Sergeant's face was purple with rage.
"Well, I'll be—" he began, but he was interrupted by the entrance of his own Captain, who laid a restraining hand on his arm.