“I am glad to hear it, and I hope you will be able to prove what you have said. How came you here?”
“I came over from the other side of the river last night. You intimated that my departure from the Third was not all regular,” added the captain.
“In a word, it was understood that you had deserted.”
“That was a mistake.”
“I am very glad to hear it; but you will remember that your loyalty to the Southern Confederacy was not above suspicion when you joined the regiment.”
De Banyan punched Somers with his elbow at these words, as though he wished him to take particular notice of them; but his admiring friend needed no such admonition to induce him to give strict attention to the statement, for it was the most satisfactory remark he had heard during the interview. Captain de Banyan rose twenty-five per cent in his estimation at the utterance of those words, however injurious they were in the opinion of him who had spoken them. There was hope for the captain; and Somers trusted that he would be able fully to exonerate himself from the foul charge, when the occasion should permit such an exposition.
“My loyalty ought to be considered above suspicion, and those who know me best do so regard it,” added De Banyan as he administered another mild punch on the ribs of his fellow-sufferer. “I was taken by the Yankees, in short; and, at the first convenient opportunity, I have come over to see you again.”
“I hope it is all right, Barney; but I am afraid it is not.”
“I shall be able to clear myself of every imputation of disloyalty, before the proper tribunal.”
“How did you get over?”