In my eagerness to meet with her again, as I felt that now I must leave town, I was willing to take some risk. It was explained to the boys that I had assumed a fictitious name in my intercourse with Capitola, and, after giving them the blind, it was arranged that I should first see our enslaved beauty alone, and obtain her consent to present the Texans at her court that evening.
A soldier will risk a good deal for the sake of meeting his girl, as we all know. It was with the earnest desire to accomplish the purpose of seeing my girl—just once more—to say "Good-by" forever, that I was willing to meet another danger.
I saw Capitola alone, and nervously explained that a few of my Texan acquaintances, who had heard so much of her beauty and accomplishments, were clamorous for an opportunity to kneel at the feet of "Maryland." I did not attempt to say a word for myself, because it was understood that, since the Mississippi Lieutenant had been paying his addresses to her, we were, all of us, entirely out of the question. This disagreeable fact did not, however, prevent the handsome girl from entertaining me in a heartily cordial manner during my preliminary visit that evening in the interest of the other boys.
I could not say "Good-by," because, don't you see, I dare not tell anybody—not even my best girl—that I must go away; so I was denied even the poor satisfaction of a farewell with Capitola.
I do not remember whether I have said so before in this narrative, but, at the risk of a repetition, I will write down here what I believe to have been the truth—that Capitola was attracted more by the Mississippi Lieutenant's uniform and position than by his superior personal appearance. That she became convinced that the blue-eyed and light-haired Maryland Corporal of Artillery was the most devoted of her lovers, if not as handsome as many others, I have every reason to know.
It was pleasantly agreed that I should introduce to her my Texas friends. She, in her fascinating manner, considerately proposed to have with her one or two lady friends as her companions, who would help to pleasantly entertain my friends, the Texans, who were as she expressed it, "Thousands of miles from their homes."
While all these fascinating interviews were being held, I, like a love-sick boy, became wholly indifferent to the dangers and complications which I was rapidly bringing about myself.
I subsequently escorted my three friends around to Capitola's residence on —— street—I can not give the name of the street. I know the location very well, however, from frequent visits. It was popularly known among us as "Poplar Grove," as it is the custom in Virginia to give names to residences. This was given to Capitola's house, because one solitary and sickly Poplar shade tree stood before it.
That we were pleasantly and cordially received by Capitola, goes without saying. She had, with bewitching taste and consideration, dressed herself for the occasion in her "Maryland, my Maryland," robes, as nearly as she consistently could, and, of course, she looked to my eye more beautiful than ever. Not to my eye alone, either, as I saw at once that our boys were most favorably impressed, not only with her appearance, but by the ease and cordiality of her manner, which served, in some mysterious way, to make everybody feel so much at home in her presence.
The doctor was particularly pleased—of all our crowd the most affable and gentlemanly and winning in conversation, being able to sustain himself creditably in any company, he was, of course, very soon at home, as we all found out to our sorrow. With him it was apparently a case of love at first sight—at least he tried to make Capitola think so. As I was out of the field myself, it was something of a gratification to me to see a prospect of some one of my friends being able to shove Lieutenant Claiborne off the stool. Some such thought as this was in my mind when, to my utter consternation, a black servant announced to Capitola that "Lieutenant Claiborne was at the door."