Mary interrupted him without intention. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

The soldiers looked at each other, struck by some sudden and singular
shame. They hung their heads. "No, m'm," replied one at last.

Santo, in his stall, was tranquilly chewing and chewing. Sometimes he
looked benevolently over at them. He was an old horse, and there was
something about his eyes and his forelock which created the impression
that he wore spectacles. Mary went and patted his nose. "Well, if you
are hungry, I can get you something," she told the men. "Or you might
come to the house."

"We wouldn't dast go to the house," said one. "That passel of Yanks was
only a scouting crowd, most like. Just an advance. More coming, likely."

"Well, I can bring you something," cried the girl eagerly. "Won't you
let me bring you something?"

"Well," said a soldier with embarrassment, "we hain't had much. If you
could bring us a little snack--like--just a snack--we'd--"

Without waiting for him to cease, the girl turned toward the door. But
before she had reached it she stopped abruptly. "Listen!" she whispered.
Her form was bent forward, her head turned and lowered, her hand
extended toward the men, in a command for silence.

They could faintly hear the thudding of many hoofs, the clank of arms,
and frequent calling voices.