I laughed, stepping forward so as to see the speaker’s face.

“Captain Bell, isn’t it?  Thought I recognized your voice.  I’m not Atherton, although I believe I was introduced to you under that name once.  I have wanted to thank you ever since for bearing testimony in my favor.”

His jaw fell, his eyes staring.

“Who the devil are you then?”

“A Federal officer; my name is Galesworth.”

“And this is no joke?”

“Well, hardly, Captain.  I shouldn’t advise you to take the affair that way.  These fellows here might not appreciate the humor of it.”

I turned back, and met Miles in the hall, just as he came in through the front door.  He grinned at sight of me, evidently well pleased.

“Got every mother’s son of ’em, sir,” he reported.  “Easy job too; never had to fire a shot, and only hit one fellow; he started a shindy in there,” with a glance toward the dining-room.  “There were five gray-jacks out in the stable, all asleep, an’ they was like lambs.  The blamed fools never had a guard set.”

“They felt safe enough, no doubt, back here,” I returned.  “The last thing they thought about was any Yankees getting this far.  Do you know what they were gathered here for?”

He shook his head.

“It was intended for a wedding party, until we butted in.”

“Hell! not that pretty girl back in there?”

“Yes,” for somehow I felt I had better tell him enough of the truth to make the situation clear.  He was an honest, clear-headed fellow, and I needed help.  “And that Confederate Captain—­Le Gaire—­was to be the bridegroom.  I am going to tell you the whole story, Sergeant, and then you’ll see what sort of a fix I’m in.”

I went over it hastily, yet with sufficient detail so as to make it all clear to his mind.  He listened soberly at first, and then his eyes began to twinkle, and he interrupted with numerous questions.  Apparently he found the tale most amusing.

“Well, if that ain’t the rummest story ever I heard!  It beats a novel by ’bout a mile.  I never was married myself, sir, but I’ve got a blamed pretty girl waitin’ for me back in ol’ Illinoy, an’ I reckon I know what she’d want me to do in a case like this.  Sure, I’m with you until the cows come home, and so are the rest o’ the boys.  Lord, this is the kind o’ sojerin’ I like; somethin’ happenin’ every minute.  What’s next, sir?”

“Perhaps I better look over the house first,” I said thoughtfully, “and see where we can stow away these prisoners without needing all our men to guard them.  You take charge in there while I am gone, Miles, and let the girl go anywhere she pleases so she promises not to leave the house.”

“All right, sir,” and the sergeant saluted, his eyes shining, as I started for the stairs.

CHAPTER XXII

MISS WILLIFRED DECLARES HERSELF