Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/48

 34 was left alone in a small room at the end of the upper hall. As the negro closed the door, clicking the latch into place, I glanced about me curiously. It was a narrow room, containing only a chair, a washstand and a single bed, a strip of rag carpet on the floor, and the one window so heavily curtained as probably to render the light invisible from without. I placed my bundle on the chair, and examined the door; it was securely latched, but there was no lock. Then I was not being held a prisoner. Still smoking I sat down on the edge of the bed, my mind busy with the situation.

It occurred to me now with new clearness of vision that Taylor had some special object in his friendliness. If he was a Union spy his natural preference would have been to travel alone. Instead, the fellow had almost insisted on my companionship; indeed, the tactiturn [sic], silent mountaineer had even endeavored to simulate geniality to that end. But for what possible reason? Suspicion no doubt of my real purpose—a vague questioning of my identity, the truth, of the story I had told. One thing was certain I must break away from these men at once, or face exposure. Good fortune had been mine so far, for Major Harwood had failed to recognize me, but if Taylor believed evil of me his tale would certainly influence that officer, and arouse his