“By Jove, this is a surprise!” and he shook hands cordially with the stranger. “Captain Monroe, I am delighted to see you in our home.”
“Thank you; I’m glad to get here,” replied Monroe, with a peculiar look towards Masterson, who regarded the cordial greeting with evident astonishment, “I had not expected to call on you this morning, but––Captain Masterson insisted.”
He smiled as he spoke––a smile of amusement, coolly careless of the amazement of Masterson, and the inquiry in the glance of McVeigh.
“Colonel McVeigh, he is a prisoner,” said Masterson, in reply to that glance, and then, as the prisoner himself maintained an indifferent silence, he explained further, “We caught sight of him galloping ahead of us through the pines, a few miles back. Realizing that we were near enough to the coast for the Federals to send in men for special service, we challenged him, got no explanation except that he rode for his own pleasure; so I put him under arrest.”
“Well, well! Since luck has sent you into our lines I’m glad it has done us a good turn and sent you to our home,” said McVeigh, though he still looked mystified at the situation. “I’ve no doubt satisfactory explanations can be made, and a parole arranged.”
“That’s good of you, Colonel,” said the prisoner, appreciatively; “you are a good sort of friend to meet when in trouble––brother Fred used to think so up at the Point; but in this case it really isn’t necessary––as I have one parole.”
He drew a paper from an inner pocket and passed it to McVeigh, who looked relieved.
“Yes, certainly, this is all right,” and he looked inquiringly at Masterson, “I don’t understand––”