Neither did that officer, who turned in some chagrin to the prisoner, who glanced from one to the other in evident indifference.
“May I ask,” said Masterson, with cold courtesy, “why you did not state when taken prisoner that you were paroled?”
“Certainly,” and the easy nonchalance of the other was almost insolent; evidently Masterson had not picked up an affinity. “I was coming your way; had been riding alone for several hours, and feared I should be deprived of the pleasure of your society if I allowed you to know how harmless I was.”
He paused for a moment––smiled in a quizzical way at McVeigh, and continued: “Then I heard your orderly mention Colonel McVeigh, whose place you were bound for, and I did not object in the least to being brought to him for judgment. But since you see I am paroled, as well as crippled,” and he motioned to the arm which he moved carefully, “incapable in any way of doing harm to your cause, I trust that a flag of truce will be recognized by you,” and he extended his hand in smiling unconcern.
But to Captain Masterson there was something irritating in the smile, and he only bowed coldly, ignoring the flag of truce, upon which Captain Monroe seemed quietly amused as he turned to McVeigh and explained that he was wounded and taken prisoner a month before over in Tennessee by Morgan’s cavalry, who had gathered in Johnson’s brigade so effectively that General Johnson, his staff, and somewhere between two and three hundred others had been taken prisoners. He, Monroe, had found a Carolina relative badly wounded among Morgan’s boys, had secured a parole, and brought the young fellow home to die, and when his own wound was in a fair way to take care of itself he had left 273 the place––a plantation south of Allendale, and headed for the coast to connect with the blockading fleet instead of making the journey north through Richmond.
It was a very clear statement, but Masterson listened to it suspiciously, without appearing to listen at all. McVeigh, who had known both Monroe and his family in the North, and was also acquainted with the Carolina family mentioned, accepted the Federal’s story without question, and invited him to remain at the Terrace so long as it suited him to be their guest.
“I have only two days at home until I leave for my regiment,” he explained; “but my mother has enough pleasant people here to make your visit interesting, I hope. She will be delighted to welcome you, and some Beaufort acquaintances of yours are here––the Lorings.”
Captain Monroe showed interest in this information, and declared it would give him pleasure to stop over until McVeigh left for the front.
“Good! and you, Captain Masterson?”
Masterson glanced coldly towards Monroe, evidently desirous of a private interview with McVeigh. But seeing little chance of it without a pointed request, he took two packets from a case carefully fastened in his pocket, and presented them.