KERCHIVAL. [_Approaches her and gently takes her hand as it holds
the bridle._] I would rather have my own hand cut off, Gertrude,
than bring tears to your eyes, but there is no alternative! [GERTRUDE
_releases the bridle and turns front, brushing her eyes, her hand
still held in his, his back to the audience. He returns order, and
motions_ TROOPERS _out; they move out with horse._ GERTRUDE _starts
after the horse;_ KERCHIVAL _turns quickly to check her._] You
forget--that--you are my prisoner.

GERTRUDE. I _will_ go!

KERCHIVAL. General Buckthorn left me special instructions--[_Taking
out wallet and letter._]--in case you declined to obey my orders--

GERTRUDE. Oh, Colonel! Please don't read that letter. [_She stands
near him, dropping her head. He glances up at her from the letter. She
glances up at him and drops her eyes again._] I will obey you.

KERCHIVAL. [_Aside._] What the deuce can there be in that letter?

GERTRUDE. Colonel West! Your men made me a prisoner this afternoon;
to-night you have robbed me, by your own orders, of--of--Jack is only
a pet, but I love him; and my brother is also a captive in your hands.
When we separated in Charleston you said that we were enemies. What is
there lacking to make those words true to-day? You _are_ my enemy!
A few moments ago you asked me to make a confession to you. You
can judge for yourself whether it is likely to be a confession
of--love--or of hatred!

KERCHIVAL. Hatred!