Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/114

 98 her a woman a woman—with all a girl's slenderness of form, and unconventionality of manner, yet capable and thoughtful, her mind clear, and loyal to her ideals—a woman of charm, of rare beauty even; sweet and wholesome in look, her cheeks aglow with health, her eyes deep wells of mystery and promise. I felt something choke in my throat as I glanced at her—a regret that I had lied, that I had deceived. Yet I saw no way in which I could escape my unfortunate predicament. I had taken the false step, and my duty to my service, my loyalty to Jackson, to Lee, to my comrades of the South, forbade any disclosure of my mission. The sympathy of the girl was unquestionably with the Northern Army; there could be no doubt as to that; her father wore Federal uniform, and had given up all for the cause. Her father! why I dare not even tell her of his death, of his dastardly murder. My lips were now completely sealed to the truth, because any attempt to explain would swiftly arouse her suspicion. Indeed it was strange she had not recognized me, although I realized to some extent, the change in my personal appearance since our last encounter—the uniform, the short, soldierly cut of my hair, the marks which exposure and peril had left on my features. Yet probably the real truth was that she had never before observed me with any care or