“Go back! Go back! The war’s begun!” cried Ardmore; but, though he quickened the pace of his horse, Jerry clung to his side.
“If there’s war, and I hope there is, I shall not shrink from the firing line, Mr. Ardmore.”
As they dashed into their own lines they came upon the regimental officers, seated in comfortable chairs from the red bungalow, calmly engaged in a game of cards.
“Great God, men!” blurted Ardmore, “why do you sit here when the state’s honour is threatened? Where was that firing?”
“You seem rather placid, gentlemen, to say the least,” added Jerry, coldly bowing to the officers, who had risen at her approach. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, that is the flag of South Carolina I see flaunted in yonder field.” And she pointed with a gauntleted hand to a palmetto flag beyond the creek.
“It is, Miss Dangerfield,” replied the colonel politely, “and you can see their pickets occasionally, but they have been drawn back from the creek, and I apprehend no immediate advance.”
“No advance! Who are we to wait for them to offer battle? Who are we to play bridge and wait upon the pleasure of a cowardly enemy?” and Jerry gazed upon the furious Ardmore with admiration, as he roared at the officers, who stood holding their caps deferentially before the daughter of their commander-in-chief. Ardmore, it was clear, they did not take very seriously, a fact which she inwardly resented.
“I don’t think it would be quite fair,” said the colonel mildly, “to force issues to-day.”
“Not force issues!” yelled Ardmore. “With your brave sons of our Old North State, not force battle! In the name of the constitution, I ask you, why not?”
“For the reason,” replied the colonel, “that the South Carolina troops ate heavily of green apples last night in an orchard over there by their camp, and they have barely enough men to maintain their pickets this morning. These, you can see, they have withdrawn a considerable distance from the creek.”