“Is Colonel Roman within?” asked Somers, using the name of the planter which had been given him by Turkin.
“Yes, sar.”
“I wish to see him.”
“Walk in, sar.”
Somers was conducted to an elegant library, where the planter and his family were seated. He was closely followed by Turkin, who had tied a red silk handkerchief over his face, so that his ugly physiognomy was entirely concealed from the inmates of the room. The planter rose from his chair, and bowed with stately courtesy to his unexpected visitors.
“I beg your pardon for disturbing you, Colonel Roman,” said Somers.
“Whom have I the honor of addressing?” demanded the planter, rather coldly.
“Captain Somers, of the army, at your service, sir.”
“You seem to wear the uniform of the Yankees.”
“That’s inter yer,” whispered Turkin, who stood close by his spokesman.