Their general direction was Nashville, and now they came into a country, richer, better cultivated, and peopled more thickly.  Toward night they saw on a gentle hill in a great lawn and surrounded by fine trees a large red brick house, with green shutters and portico supported by white pillars.  Smoke rose from two chimneys.  Colonel Winchester halted his troop and examined the house from a distance for a little while.

“This is the home of wealthy people,” he said at last to Dick, “and we may obtain some information here.  At least we should try it.”

Dick had his doubts, but he said nothing.

“You, Mr. Pennington, Mr. Warner and Sergeant Whitley, dismount with me,” continued the colonel, “and we’ll try the house.”

He bade his troop remain in the road under the command of the officer next in rank, and he, with those whom he had chosen, opened the lawn gate.  A brick walk led to the portico and they strolled along it, their spurs jingling.  Although the smoke still rose from the chimneys no door opened to them as they stepped into the portico.  All the green shutters were closed tightly.

“I think they saw us in the road,” said Dick, “and this is a house of staunch Southern sympathizers.  That is why they don’t open to us.”

“Beat on the door with the hilt of your sword, sergeant,” said the colonel to Whitley.  “They’re bound to answer in time.”

The sergeant beat steadily and insistently.  Yet he was forced to continue it five or six minutes before it was thrown open.  Then a tall old woman with a dignified, stern face and white hair, drawn back from high brows, stood before them.  But Dick’s quick eyes saw in the dusk of the room behind her a girl of seventeen or eighteen.

“What do you want?” asked the woman in a tone of ice.  “I see that you are Yankee soldiers, and if you intend to rob the house there is no one here to oppose you.  Its sole occupants are myself, my granddaughter, and two colored women, our servants.  But I tell you, before you begin, that all our silver has been shipped to Nashville.”

Colonel Winchester flushed a deep crimson, and bit his lips savagely.

“Madame,” he said, “we are not robbers and plunderers.  These are regular soldiers belonging to General Grant’s army.”

“Does it make any difference?  Your armies come to ravage and destroy the South.”

Colonel Winchester flushed again but, remembering his self-control, he said politely: 

“Madame, I hope that our actions will prove to you that we have been maligned.  We have not come here to rob you or disturb you in any manner.  We merely wished to inquire of you if you had seen any other Southern armed forces in this vicinity.”

“And do you think, sir,” she replied in the same uncompromising tones, “if I had seen them that I would tell you anything about it?”

“No, Madame,” replied the Colonel bowing, “whatever I may have thought before I entered your portico I do not think so now.”