CHAPTER IV.
A FEARFUL ALTERNATIVE.
The accusation was so sudden that she started back with an exclamation of terror.
“And you shall be made to tell!” he continued, fiercely, seizing her rudely by the shoulder.
“Back, ruffian!” she cried, with flashing eyes, breaking from his clutch.
“Don’t let her escape!” commanded Captain Dermot. “She is in league with the Yankee dog.”
At that moment a loud commotion in the hall below caught their attention.
“What’s up?” cried Dermot running to the head of the stairs.
“We’ve got the old man; but he fit like a wild-cat.”
“Bring him up here at once.”
In spite of his resistance Caleb Morland was dragged up the stairs.
“What means this treatment, Captain Dermot?” said the old man, as soon as he could speak.
“No harm to you, colonel. Perhaps the boys are a little rough though. Release him, boys.”
“There, colonel you are a free man. We are in search of a Yankee spy who is hiding somewhere on your premises.”
“A Yankee spy hiding on my premises!” repeated Colonel Morland in amazement. “Impossible, Captain Dermot.”
“Pardon me, colonel, but it is even so. We saw him come this way, and what better evidence do you want than that, picked up at your door,” said the Confederate, triumphantly, displaying the handkerchief dropped by the scout.
“He is Cavalry Curt, the most dangerous man in Sherman’s army.”
“I have heard of him,” acknowledged the old man, huskily. “But you must be mistaken in thinking that he is here. I have only been out of the house a few minutes, and surely you do not doubt my loyalty enough to think that I would give protection to one of Abe Lincoln’s spies?”
The old man showed great emotion and his tone was one of honesty.
“No—no; not you, colonel. But—young ladies are sometimes rashly influenced by a good-looking stranger,” and he looked at Mara who was a silent spectator.
Colonel Morland caught the meaning of that look; at least he exclaimed:
“Explain yourself, Captain Dermot.”
“Ask the young lady if she has seen the man we are in quest of,” he replied.
“Mara, have you seen Cavalry Curt?” questioned her grandparent.
“Grandpa,” and she spoke quite calmly, “I cannot answer that question, for I do not know Cavalry Curt, I have told Captain Dermot that a man answering to his description was here this morning. He came here soon after you left me. Where he is now I cannot tell. Were Captain Dermot a gentleman he would not trouble us further.”
“Ha—ha! you see how it is, captain. You have no reason to doubt our loyalty, I hope you will capture the Yankee dog. Were I not so old I would join you in the search.”
“Bah! Colonel Morland, you jump to a hasty conclusion, it is not your loyalty that we doubt, but the girl’s! We know the Yankee dog is in this house!”
The other started with a look of amazement.
“I am sure that you are mistaken, captain; and to prove my sincerity I give you permission to search my buildings as much as you like.”
“That we must do, colonel, and shall level them to the earth but we will find them.
“Logan and Andrews, see that the old man and the girl do not leave this room. The rest of you continue the search.”
“A sorry day it will be for you, colonel, if we find that spy on your premises.”
Completely overcome, the old man bowed his head in silence.
Mara, too, was speechless.
Fifteen minutes later the Confederates gathered around them.
Captain Dermot’s swarthy face looked blacker than ever.
“It’s no use wasting time in that way,” he muttered.
“Mara Morland, you know where that spy is hiding, and, by heavens, you shall tell us or we will tear this house down over your heads.”
It was a fearful moment to the maiden. “Spare us,” she implored. “We are loyal yet.”
“Will you tell us where Cavalry Curt is hiding?”
“I cannot!”
“You lie. Colonel Morland, do you uphold her in this scheme?”
“No—no. Mara, if you know where the spy is secreted tell him and spare us further trouble.”
“Grandpa, are we to submit to his insolence? I would that my brother were here.”
“So do I, my child.”
“He may learn of this sooner than you will wish,” retorted Captain Dermot, fiercely.
“Duty compels me to do what is far from pleasant. Colonel Morland, consider yourself our prisoner. Buck Logan, see that he is securely bound.”
“That I will, captain.”
“Oh, no—no!” cried Mara. “Spare him.”
In spite of her entreaties and his struggles, Caleb Morland was quickly seized and bound.
“Now a piece of rope, men. I’ll see if they can’t be brought to terms.”
The rope was quickly forthcoming.
“Make a slipping noose in one end and put it around the old man’s neck. There, that’s it. Now, Mara Morland, tell us where that infernal Yankee is hiding, or your grandfather swings from that window within one minute!”