“We do, sir. We stopped at the next house below, to get some supper, for we are almost starved; but they had just received some friends from Savannah, and could not provide for us.”
“From Savannah?” said the planter, with evident surprise; and immediately the ladies present suspended their sewing, and looked at the young officer.
“Yer smart, Yank!” muttered Turkin, who appeared to enjoy the situation amazingly.
“I think they said from Savannah,” replied Somers. “They recommended us to come here, assuring us that you never turned a hungry soldier from your door. They gave me a card, requesting me to deliver it to you.”
Somers handed the planter the photograph, on the back of which was written the appalling statement of the character of the guerillas. It was a fearful moment to him, for the alarm of the planter might betray him to the bloodthirsty villain who stood at his side. Though the silk handkerchief over the face of Turkin impaired his vision, it did not entirely obstruct it.
Colonel Roman read the words on the card; he was startled by them, and glanced at the bearer of the message. Somers contracted his brow, shook his head slightly in the direction of Turkin, and assumed a deprecatory expression, which the planter seemed to understand.
“The persons at the next house wish to see you as soon as possible,” added Somers.
“We will go at once,” replied Colonel Roman, “if you will excuse my absence.”
“Certainly, sir,” answered Somers, now fully assured that he was understood.
“What is it, father?” asked one of the daughters, puzzled by the remarks which had been made in her presence.