He wrote the pass and handed it to her.
She murmured her thanks and he placed his big hand on her dark head and asked casually:
"Of course you're loyal?"
The young lips quivered, she hesitated, looked up into his face through dimmed eyes, and the slender body suddenly stiffened, as she slowly said:
"Yes—to the heart's core—to Virginia!"
The trembling fingers handed the pass back and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
The tall man dared not look down again. Something about this slim wistful girl brought back over the years the memory of the young mother who had come from the hills of old Virginia.
He was still for a moment, stooped, and took her hand in his. His voice was low and tender and full of feeling:
"I know what it cost you to say that, child. You're a brave, glorious little girl, if you are a rebel. I love you for this glimpse you've given me of a great spirit. I'm sure I can trust you. If I let you go, will you promise me faithfully that no word shall pass your lips of what you've seen inside our lines?"
"I promise!" she cried, smiling through her tears.