Captain de Banyan withdrew from the hall, and joined Somers in the sitting-room, where he was immediately followed by the doctor. The situation did not look very hopeful, even to a man of such desperate fortunes as the bold Tennessean. The house was surrounded by rebel soldiers, and a report of the case would probably be made to the provost-marshal; therefore it was not at all likely that the doughty doctor could long remain contumacious.
“So, my mysterious friend, you are a Confederate deserter, are you?” said the doctor, as he placed himself in front of the captain, thrust his hands deep down into the pockets of his pants, and stared at his guest with all the vigor of an active and piercing eye.
“You say that I am; but I adhere to my original resolution, to say nothing at present,” replied De Banyan, returning the gaze of the doctor as earnestly as it was given.
“If you were Abe Lincoln himself, you are safe in my house,” said the doctor after a long pause. “But I wish you to understand clearly and precisely what I mean. I am not the man to shield a deserter or a Yankee from the penalty due to his crimes. You came into my house with a wounded man. I am an Arab on the subject of hospitality. Whoever comes into my house is my guest; and I never betrayed a man who trusted in me.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“You needn’t thank me, for I despise you from the deepest depths of my heart; and in due time you will fall into the hands of the military authorities, but not in my house.”
“Thank you, Dr. Scoville. I appreciate your hospitality, and despise you as much as you do me,” answered De Banyan.
“Despise me! How dare you——”
“Oh! I dare do anything; and I beg leave to inform you that neither myself nor my friend will fall into the hands of the soldiers, either in your house or outside of it. You can set your mind entirely at ease on that subject.”
“I am tempted for once to violate even my own law of hospitality.”