“You claimed, I believe, to be an officer and a gentleman,” she said coldly.
I smiled, even as I felt the full chill of her words, and my purpose stiffened within me.
“Even as I yet claim, and trust to be able to prove to your satisfaction,”—my eyes looked unfalteringly into hers,—“but, unfortunately, I have one with me to-night who is neither. I would that he were for my own sake. However, madam, let that pass. The fact is here, and we have no time to argue or quarrel. I have already told you that we ride with despatches for Longstreet. These must go forward at all hazards, for thousands of human lives depend upon them; yet I dare not leave you here alone and unprotected to the mercies of the wolves who haunt these hills.”
“You are exceedingly kind.”
The tone in which she spoke was most sarcastic, “I thank you for your approbation,” and I bowed again; “but I venture to tell you this merely because I have already fully determined to despatch the Sergeant forward with the message, and remain behind myself to render you every protection possible.”
“Do you mean that we are to remain here alone?”
“There is no other way.”
She made no reply, but her proud unbelieving eyes were no longer upon my face.
“I beg you to believe, madam,” I pleaded gently, for I confess my interest in her good opinion was growing stronger, “that I do this only because I believe it to be a duty, and not that I desire in any way to distress you with my presence.”
She swept my upturned face suddenly with questioning eyes.