"Perhaps you have sons here in this house?"

"I have three, but they are not here."

"Where are they?"

"One fell with Jackson at Chancellorsville. It was a glorious death,
but he is not dead to me. I shall always see him, as he was when he went
away, a tall, strong man with brown hair and blue eyes. Another fell in
Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. They told me that his body lay across
one of the Union guns on Cemetery Hill. That, too, was a glorious death,
and like his brother he shall live for me as long as I live. The third
is alive and with Lee."

She had stopped knitting, but now she resumed it, and, during another
embarrassed pause, the click, click of the needles was the only sound
heard in the room.

"I regret it, madame," resumed Dick, "but we must search the house
thoroughly."

"Proceed," she said again in that tone of finality.

"Take the men and look carefully through every room," said Dick to the
sergeant. "I will remain here."

Whitley and the troopers withdrew quietly. When the last of them had
disappeared he walked to one of the windows and looked out. He saw his
mounted men beyond the rose garden on guard, and he knew that they were