“Whatever I am,” I retorted, my gorge rising suddenly at his contemptuous term, and stepping out into the room before him, “I at least wear the uniform of my service and rank, and not the nondescript garments of a guerilla.”
The scornful words stung him; I noticed the quick flush of anger in his eyes, and was not sorry.
“You are insolent, sir. Moreover, you go too far, for as it chances you are well within our lines, and we will see to what extent honor is consistent with the work of a spy. The uniform of your service, indeed!” he echoed hotly, pointing as he spoke across the room; “that cavalry cloak over yonder tells its own story. Peters, Steele, arrest this fellow.”
“Frank, don't do that,” she urged earnestly. “You mistake; that was the cloak I wore.”
If he heard her he gave no sign.
“Bind him,” was the stern order, as the two men advanced. “Use your belts if you have nothing else handy.”
Angry as I most assuredly was, swept also by a new emotion which I did not in the least comprehend, I yet fully realized the utter helplessness of my position in point of resistance. They were twenty to one. However much I longed to grapple with him who mocked me, the very thought was insanity; my only possible chance of escape lay in flight. To realize this was to act. I leaped backward, trusting for a clear field in my rear, and an opportunity to run for it, but the door by which I had just entered was now closed and barred—Bungay had made sure his retreat. The man, watching my every movement, with sword half drawn in his hand, saw instantly that I was securely trapped, and laughed in scorn.
“You are not making war on women now,” he said with a cutting sneer. “You will not find me so easy a victim.”
The taunt stung me, but more the tone and manner of the speaker, and the hot blood of youth cast all caution to the winds. With a single spring, forgetful of my own wound, I was at his throat, dashed aside his uplifted hand, and by the sheer audacity of my sudden, unexpected onset, bore him back crashing to the floor. He struggled gamely, yet I possessed the advantage of position, and would have punished him severely, but for the dozen strong hands which instantly laid hold upon me, and dragged me off, still fighting madly, although as helpless as a child.
My opponent instantly leaped to his feet and started forward, drawing a revolver as he came. His face was deathly white from passion, and there was a look in his eyes which told me he would be restrained now by no rule of war.