” “You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way, in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart, and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner. Maggot. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. I spent many happy days there.
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