I made my decision instantly. There might be some reason, possibly her own request, whereby her being alone with me that night should remain untold. Very well, it would never be borne to other ears through any failure of my lips to guard the secret. She had voluntarily pledged herself to go to Sheridan in my defence; until she did so, her secret, if secret indeed it was, should remain safe with me. I could do no less in honor.
“It is not altogether true,” I said firmly, “and no one knows this better than Major Brennan. I was there, as I told him, wholly because of an accident upon the road, but as to its particulars I must most respectfully decline to answer.”
“You realize what such a refusal may mean to you?”
“I understand fully the construction which may unjustly be placed upon it by those who desire to condemn me, but at present I can make no more definite reply. I have reason to believe the full facts will be presented to you by one in whose word you will have confidence.”
I caught a gleam of positive delight in Brennan's eyes, and instantly wondered if this seeming reluctance upon his part was not merely a clever mode of tricking me into silence,—into what might seem an insolent contempt of Federal authority. I would wait and see. There would surely be ample time for her to act if she desired to do so. Anyway, I was little disposed to find shelter behind a woman's skirts.
Sheridan straightened in his chair, and looked across the table at me almost angrily.
“Very well, sir,” he said gravely. “Your fate is in your own hands, and will depend very largely upon your replies to my questions. You claim to have been the bearer of despatches, and hence no spy, yet you possess nothing to substantiate your claim. As your regiment is with Lee, I presume you were seeking Longstreet. Were your despatches delivered?”
“I have reason to believe so.”
“By yourself?”
“By the sergeant who accompanied me, and who continued the journey after I was detained.”