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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"My Lady of the North"

"
"I do not wholly understand," he said at last, "yet I do not doubt you
may be perfectly right in your decision." He extended his hand
impulsively. "I know you to be a good soldier and a true gentleman; I
will stand with you, Wayne, but I pledge this--if he takes advantage
treacherously, and you fall (as God forbid!), I will face him myself;
and when I do, there shall be no firing in the air."
I wrung his hand silently, and my heart went out in unspeakable
gratitude to this noble fellow, who, wearing the uniform of an enemy,
had constantly proven himself my sincere friend. "Your words strengthen
me greatly," I managed to say at last. "Now let us go, and not keep the
others waiting."
I do not remember that we spoke, save once, while we passed out through
the orchard into the field where the big tobacco shed stood. A group of
soldiers were digging a grave behind one of the negro cabins, but other
than these we saw no one. It was as we paused a moment to refasten the
gate that I finally broke the silence between us.
"In the inner pocket of my shirt," I said, "you will find directions
which will enable you to communicate with my people."
His eyes instantly filled with tears.
"Don't say that, Wayne," he protested. "I will not believe it is
destined to end so."
"I certainly trust it is not," I answered, smiling at him, and deeply
touched by his show of genuine feeling, "but I have only you to rely
upon in this matter if by any chance it does.


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