He said, reddening: “At the first volley you are to go with an escort across the ridge. I told you that, didn’t I?”
But she remained scornful, mute and obstinate, pretty head bent, twisting the folds of her faded skirt.
“Do you think I would let you remain here if there were any danger?” he asked in a lower voice.
“How long am I to be kept here?” she asked pettishly.
“Until the Yankees come through—and I can’t tell you when that will be, because I don’t know myself.”
“Are they in the pass?”
“We don’t know. Everybody is beginning to be worried. We can’t see very far into that ravine——”
“Then why don’t you go where you can see?” she said with a shrug.
“Where?” he asked, surprised.
“Didn’t you know that there is a path above the pass?”