“Mrs. Duncan and Miss Duncan, I suppose,” he said with a sweeping bow, “and----”
“Mrs. Drummond and Miss Oglesby,” we said of the ladies who came behind us.
“I am Colonel McReynolds, commandant at this place, and at your service, ladies,” he continued. “I have to apologize for not paying my respects to you last night upon receipt of General Kelly’s letter asking me to take charge of you. The lateness of the hour must be my excuse. At the time Captain Goldsborough presented it I had a number of important despatches to attend to, and I supposed you were tired out and in need of rest.”
We expressed our appreciation of his courtesy and General Kelly’s thoughtfulness.
“What is all this?” he asked, pointing to our ambulance, baggage wagon, and impatient driver.
We explained that they were the conveniences furnished us by General Kelly.
“But you surely do not propose starting off in such weather as this, ladies?”
I have neglected to say that it had been storming since daybreak.
“The driver has been beating on the doors since before day,” somebody said.
“He has, has he? Then he has exceeded his instructions. He had no right whatever to disturb you, ladies. I will see that he is reported.”
He called the driver and reprimanded him sharply.
“Pray don’t feel that you must leave us in such weather as this, ladies,” he continued with the utmost kindness. “Stay here a week if you like. That ambulance and wagon and those men and horses are at your service as long as you choose to keep them here, and we will be glad to do whatever we may for your comfort or pleasure until it suits your own convenience to leave us.”
We hardly knew how to thank this princely young enemy, but we insisted that the driver should not be punished, and that we should be allowed to proceed on our journey, as we were anxious to reach our friends and kindred.
He rode in our ambulance with us to his headquarters, where we were joined by our other charming enemy, and, making our adieux to the gallant and handsome colonel, continued our journey.
During the day something happened to Captain Goldsborough’s watch, and it stopped running, much to his annoyance.
“I should like to know what time it is,” he said.
I pulled my watch out and held it open for him to see the time. I could have told him what hour it was. I don’t know what made me such a reckless little creature in those days. The watch I held to him had a tiny Confederate flag pasted inside. My companions had either secreted their watches or were not traveling with them. I had been urged to do the same, but had openly worn my watch ever since leaving Baltimore. Captain Goldsborough saw the hour, and he saw the flag also. He stared at me in utter amazement.