Dan went up the steps and stood, cap in hand, before her. The lamplight was full upon his ragged clothes and upon his pallid face with its strong high-bred lines of mouth and chin.
“I thought you were my husband,” said the woman, blushing at her mistake. “If you want food you are welcome to the little that I have--it is very little.” She led the way into the house, and motioned, with a pitiable gesture, to a table that was spread in the centre of the sitting room.
“Will you sit down?” she asked, and at the words, a child in the corner of the room set up a frightened cry.
“It's my supper--I want my supper,” wailed the child.
“Hush, dear,” said the woman, “they are our soldiers.”
“Our soldiers,” repeated the child, staring, with its thumb in its mouth and the tear-drops on its cheeks.
For an instant Dan looked at them as they stood there, the woman holding the child in her arms, and biting her thin lips from which hunger had drained all the red. There was scant food on the table, and as his gaze went back to it, it seemed to him that, for the first time, he grasped the full meaning of a war for the people of the soil. This was the real thing--not the waving banners, not the bayonets, not the fighting in the ranks.
His eyes were on the woman, and she smiled as all women did upon whom he looked in kindness.
“My dear madam, you have mistaken our purpose--we are not as hungry as we look,” he said, bowing in his ragged jacket. “We were sent merely to ask you if you were in need of a guard for your smokehouse. My Colonel hopes that you have not suffered at our hands.”
“There is nothing left,” replied the woman mystified, yet relieved. “There is nothing to guard except the children and myself, and we are safe, I think. Your Colonel is very kind--I thank him;” and as they went out she lighted them with her lamp from the front steps.
An hour later they returned to camp with aching limbs and empty hands.
“There's nothing above ground,” they reported, flinging themselves beside the fire, though the night was warm. “We've scoured the whole country and the Federals have licked it as clean as a plate before us. Bless my soul! what's that I smell? Is this heaven, boys?”
“Licked it clean, have they?” jeered the mess. “Well, they left a sheep anyhow loose somewhere. Beau's darky hadn't gone a hundred yards before he found one.”