“Don’t ask me now,” she said. “If it’s Moray, I’ll get him.... What are those troops over there, General?” pointing through the doorway.
“The Excelsiors—Irish Brigade.”
She nodded carelessly. “And where are the signal men? Where is your signal officer stationed—Captain——”
“Do you mean West? He’s over on that knob, talking to Wilcox with flags. See him, up there against the sky?”
“Yes,” she said.
The general’s gimlet eyes seemed to bore through her. “Is that all?”
“All, thank you,” she motioned with dry lips.
“Are you properly fixed? What do you carry—a revolver?”
She nodded in silence.
“All right. Your troopers will be waiting outside.... Get him, in one way or another; do you understand?”