"Yes; but what side?"
"We are on the side of the Union."
At this the youthful captain gave a groan. "Then I—I can't expect anything of you. Too bad! I wanted to send word to my sister—" A sudden spasm of pain caused him to stop speaking.
"We are not enemies, Captain, saving on the battlefield," said Deck, tenderly, for this case appealed strongly to his considerate heart. "You can rest assured that I will do all that I can for you—within the lines of my duty to the government."
"Will you? You—you look like an honest fellow—and you are young, like me."
"The major is all right, Captain," broke in Life. "Trust him for anything he promises."
"I come from Chattanooga, where I lived alone with my sister Rosebel. She didn't want me to join the army, and we—we quarrelled—" The captain gave something like a sob. "I joined the cavalry—ran away from Rosebel—and we—we quarrelled so hard I got mad and took the money—hid it away—down in the back cellar—in an iron pot—eight hundred dollars in gold. If you will do a stranger and an enemy a kindness, go to Rosebel,—or send word—ask her to forgive—ask her—tell her I am so sorry—so sorry—" Again the captain broke off, and now his eyes closed.
"Let me give him a bit of liquor, Major," said Knox, and poured some into his cup. The wounded youth took a swallow, and it gave him temporary strength.
"Oh, Rosebel, if I could only see you again," he murmured. He looked at Deck searchingly. "You will go to her—or send word?"
"I will."