"Yes, and at once. We have made such a spirited defence that when we are finally overpowered there will be little mercy shown. Not even your sex would protect you, even if you were fortunate enough to escape flying bullets. Your father is with Chambers, and, no doubt, the Confederate commander out yonder will forward you to his care. I will take you to him under a flag of truce."
We were out where the light shown upon us dimly, yet sufficiently to reveal expressions. Her face was colorless, but her eyes exhibited no fear.
"Wait, Lieutenant Galesworth," she insisted, still clinging to my hand. "I must understand better, and you must hear first what I have to tell. Why did father leave the house without me?"
"We both believed you had already gone."
"I? That was a strange supposition."
"Not at all; you had disappeared; we could discover no trace of you anywhere. Your father reported that you had overheard all that occurred in the hall below--the arrival of reinforcements, my orders to defend the house, the Federal plan of attack. Major Hardy told you his parole prevented him from reporting this discovery, yet no pledge of honor bound you. What else could I think, but that you had escaped into the Confederate lines with the news?"
She stared into my face, breathing heavily, yet without speaking. Then she released the clasp of my hand, and leaned back against the wall, shading her eyes.
"Do not misunderstand me, Billie," I urged anxiously. "I could never have blamed you. I sent that word to you through your father. You are a daughter of the South, and I honored your loyalty. There was no reason why you should not sacrifice me for the sake of the cause."
"Are you sorry I did not?"
"No, far from it, and--and, Billie, it is not the first time; does it mean--"