He pushed his chair hastily back, his face fairly crimson, and began to stammer an explanation; but Maitland interfered.
“What does all this mean, Carlson?” he exclaimed sternly. “Sit down, Wayne—there is some strange mistake here.”
I resumed my chair, wondering if they had all gone crazy, yet resolved upon taking instant action if some satisfactory explanation were not at once forthcoming.
“Come, Carlson, what do you mean by addressing such language to Captain Wayne?”
“Veil,” said the Swede, so agitated by the excitement about him he could scarcely find English in which to express himself intelligibly, “it vos dis vay. I vould not insult Captain Vayne; oh, no, bot it vos told to me, an' I vould haf him to know how it all vos. It vos two months ago I go mit de flag of truce into de Federal lines at Minersville. You know dat time? I vos vaitin' for answer ven a Yankee rides oop, an' looks me all ofer like I vos a hog. 'Veil,' I say, plain like, 'vot you vant?' He say, 'I heard der vos Reb officer come in der lines, an' I rides down to see if he vos der hound vot I vanted to horsevip.' 'Veil,' I say, for it made me much mad, 'maybe you like to horsevip me?' 'No,' he says, laughing, 'it vos a damn pup in der ——th Virginia Cavalry, named Vayne, I am after,' I say, 'Vot has he done?' He says, 'He insult a voman, an' vould not fight mit me.'”
He looked about him anxiously to see if we comprehended his words.
“And what did you say?” from a dozen eager voices.
The Swede gazed at them in manifest astonishment.
“I say I knowed netting about der voman, but if he say dat an officer of der ——th Virginia Cavalry vould not fight mit him he vos a damned liar. I vould have hit him, but I vos under der flag of truce.”
I reached my hand out to him across the table.