"Your love for the Union! I've suspected you before. You've evaded my
questions. Our love has been so big and sweet a thing that you have
always stammered and hesitated to tell me a deliberate lie. It's not
necessary now. I know. Ulrich Dahlgren is the age of my brother Billy.
They used to play together in Washington at Commodore Dahlgren's home
and at ours. He had the most peculiarly beautiful blond hair I ever saw
on a man. I'd know it anywhere on earth. That strand is his, poor boy!
Besides, Dick Welford captured your messenger with that pathetic little
bundle on his way to Washington--"
Socola started in spite of his desperate effort at self-control and was
about to speak when Jennie lifted her hand.
"Don't, please. It's useless to quibble and argue with me longer. We
face each other with souls bare. I don't ask you why you have deceived
me. Your business as a Federal spy is to deceive the enemy--"
"You are not my enemy," he interrupted in a sudden burst of passion.
"You are my mate! You are mine by all the laws of God and nature. I love
you. I worship you. We are _not_ enemies. We never have been--we never
shall be. With the last breath I breathe your name shall be on my
lips--"
"You may speak your last word soon--"
"What do you mean?"
"I am going to surrender you to the authorities--"
"And you have just been sobbing in my arms--the man you have sworn to
love forever?"
"It's the only atonement I can make.
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