“Mother, I will be obeyed at once.  The carriage is ready.  My own men, who have been paroled, will act as escort.  Lou shall go if taken by force.”

“Madison, what can you hope from a wife won by such violence?”

“She will fear and obey me the rest of her life.  I’d rather die ten thousand deaths than be balked after what she has said.  Come, let’s go through the form of breakfast and then I shall act.”

They found Miss Lou with her uncle, aunt, and Major Brockton already at the table.  The major at once resumed his condolences.  “I am very sorry indeed,” he said, “that you ladies are compelled to leave your home.”

“Do you think it wisest and best that we should?” asked Mrs. Whately quickly, hoping that her niece would feel the force of the older officer’s decision.

“Yes, madam, I do.  I think that the sooner you all are south of our advance the better.  It is possible that a battle may take place on this very ground, although I hope not.  As soon as my men have had something to eat I shall follow the Yankees, a course I trust that will bring on the action elsewhere; but this region will probably become one of strife and turmoil for a time.  It won’t last long, however, and if the house is spared I think you can soon return.”

Mrs. Baron poured the coffee and then excused herself.  A few moments later Miss Lou, who was very observant, noted a significant glance from Zany.  As the dusky waitress started ostensibly for the kitchen, the young girl immediately followed.  Whately hesitated a moment or two, then left the breakfast room also.  But Zany had had time to whisper: 

“Oh, Miss Lou, Miss Whately’s keridge’s at de do’, en Perkins en sogers wid it.  Ole miss in yo’ room en—­”

“Quit that,” said Whately in a low, stern voice, and Zany scuttled away.

“Now, then,” resumed Whately to his cousin, “if you have any dignity or sense left, get ready at once.  I can tell you that I’m far past being trifled with now.”

“I’ll finish my breakfast first, if you please,” was the quiet response, so quiet that he was misled, and imagined her will breaking before his purpose.

They were scarcely seated at the table again before she startled them all by saying, “Major Brockton, I appeal to you, as a Southern gentleman and a Southern officer, for protection.”

“Why, Miss Baron!” exclaimed the major, “you fairly take away my breath.”

“Little wonder, sir.  I have had mine taken away.”

“Louise, you are insane!” cried Mr. Baron, starting up.

“Major, you can see for yourself that I am not insane, that I have perfect self-control.  As you are a true man I plead with you not to let my cousin send me away.  He can only do so by force, but I plead with you not to permit it.  If I must I will tell you all, but I’d rather not.  I am an orphan and so have sacred claims on every true man, and I appeal to you.  I do not fear any battle that may be fought here, but I do fear being sent away, and with good reason.”