“Kenneth, my boy, I don’t like to crush any lingering faith you have in your Northern friend,” said Clarkson, laying his hand affectionately on McVeigh’s arm as they reached the steps, “but from the evidence before us I––I’m afraid he’s gone! He’ll never come back!”
At that moment a low, lazy sort of whistle sounded across 339 the lawn, so low and so slow that it was apparently an unconscious accompaniment to reverie or speculation. It was quite dark except where the light shone from the hall. All the gaudy paper lanterns had been extinguished, and when the confidential notes of “Rally ’round the flag, boys,” came closer, and the whistler emerged from the deeper shadows, he could only distinguish two figures at the foot of the steps, and they could only locate him by the glow of his cigar in the darkness.
There was a moment’s pause and then the whistler said, “Hello! Friends or foes?”
“Captain Jack!” said McVeigh, with a note of relief in his voice, very perceptible to the Judge, who felt a mingling of delight and surprise at his failure as a prophet.
“Oh, it’s you, is it, Colonel?” and Monroe came leisurely forward. “I fancied every one but myself had gone to bed when I saw the lights out. I walked away across your fields, smoking.”
The others did not speak. They could not at once throw aside the constraint imposed by the situation. He felt it as he neared the steps, but remarked carelessly:
“Cloudy, isn’t it? I am not much of a weather prophet, but feel as if there is a storm in the air.”
“Yes,” agreed McVeigh, with an abstracted manner. He was not thinking of the probable storm, but of what action he had best take in the matter, whether to have the suspected man secretly watched, or to make a plain statement of the case, and show that the circumstantial evidence against him was too decided to be ignored.
“Well, Colonel, you’ve helped me to a delightful evening,” continued the unsuspecting suspect. “I shall carry away most pleasant memories of your plantation hospitality, and have concluded to start with them in the morning.” There 340 was a slight pause, then he added: “Sorry I can’t stay another day, but I’ve been thinking it over, and it seems necessary for me to move on to the coast.”
“Not going to run from the enemy?” asked Clarkson, with a doubtful attempt at lightness.