“And do you really intend to return?” asked the General.
“_Of course I do!_” replied William, with something of scorn and much of pride in his tones.
“William, think for a moment. You are now safe. You are with one who loves you, and with whom you can be happy. Why will you return?”
“General, don’t argue this point with me. I said I would come back, and darn me if I don’t!” Nettleton started, after having shook the hand of his friends.
“Stay a moment, Nettleton,” said the General. “I have a letter from General Price with regard to you.”
Nettleton paused and listened, as the commander, opening the envelope, read:
“A prisoner of war was released from our camp, and permitted to return to Springfield, on the 9th. It was at first thought that he was a spy, as he had been seen in and near our camp before, and he was about to suffer death upon the scaffold, when I saw and questioned him. I became convinced that he was no spy, but a faithful servant and friend, searching for his captain, whom he loved. I ordered his release. I gave him a parole of honor. He promised to return that the sentence of the ‘drum-head court’ could be carried into effect upon him, after he had given the evidence he possessed, which he declared was necessary to save an innocent man. I admire his truthfulness. Should he be determined to return, of which I have no doubt, you will read this letter, which releases William Nettleton from any further obligation. He will remain with his friends, and be happy.
The effect upon the gallant fellow of the reading of this letter, was somewhat singular. He stood for a moment gaping around upon the spectators, as if he had been caught in some mean act. Then a smile came over his face like sunlight creeping over a rugged mountain top. Soon his countenance looked like a newly risen sun—fairly blazing with blushes. Then, with a wild _whoop_, which rung out like a signal, he sprung into air, rattled his feet together, and once on earth again, bounded off like a great moose, for the nearest thicket, where to indulge his “feelings” without restraint.
The crowd dispersed in good-humor, to talk over the strange events of an hour. If one heart was happier than all, it was that of poor Mamie, whose joy at the proven innocence of her friend and lover was too intense for words. In her heart a new hope had also arisen, that her dear brother would again be restored to her arms, and thus fill up the cup of her blessings to the brim.