“Don’t you know me, Sally?” he asked.
She stared mutely, inwardly occupied with her outward appearance, fearing perhaps that a tithe of her gladness of heart at seeing him might be detected by his supersensitive, pleading eye.
“Thar ain’t nothin’ to keep me from knowin’ of you,” she said. “As fur as them clothes on yore back is concerned, they become yore sort powerful well. A rebel is a rebel anywhar.”
Again the qualms of physical weakness stirred within him. He hung his head, praying for strength to keep from falling at her feet. She smiled relentlessly and continued:
“I reckon when the Union men attackted you-uns last night you broke an’ ran like all the rest. I seed that fight, John Ericson. Me an’ grandpa scrouged down behind the chimney so as not to git struck an’ watched the trap the bluecoats was a-layin’ fer you-uns. We seed the reinforcements slide in round ‘Old Crow’, an’ knowed most o’ you-uns would play mumbly-peg ‘fore mornin’. I mought ‘a’ ‘lowed you’d git off unteched, knowing them woods as well as you do.”
His silence, his downcast attitude may have shamed the girl, for a change came over her. She cast a hurried glance at the far-off encampment, and a touch of anxiety came into her tone as she added:
“You’d better git back into hidin’, John Ericson. The Union soldiers have been sendin’ out searchin’ squads all day fer men that got aloose in the woods. They say they pulled Jake McLain right out ’n his bed. His wife had burnt his rebel uniform an’ said he was a Yank a-lyin’ up sick, but the powder-stains on his face give him away, an’ they tuk him off.”
It was plain to him that she did not suspect he was wounded unto death, and he forgave her sternness for the sake of his great love. Besides, she was showing qualities of patriotism to which he granted her the right, though he could not comprehend what influence had entered her life to harden it to such an extent. Just then the bent form of Grandfather Tripp emerged from the other room of the cabin, crossed the entry, and stared at the soldier.
“Well, I ’ll be liter’ly bumfuzzled!” he exclaimed. “Ef it ain’t John Ericson! I knowed yore company was in the fight last night, an’ I thought o’ you when I heerd the grape-shot a-plinkin’ out thar. But hang me, ef you don’t look sick ur half starved! Sally, give ’im some ‘n’ t’ eat. They don’t feed the rebs much. Johnny, she’s been a-pinin’ fer you ever sence you enlisted, an’ last night durin’ the fight she mighty nigh went distracted. She—”
“Grandpa, that’s a lie!” cried the girl, fiercely; but there were pink spots in her cheeks as she retreated into the cabin and began to slam the pots and pans on the stone hearth.