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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Clarence"


They were both staring savagely at each other. Suddenly he said, "Hush!"
and sprang towards the door, as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed
along the passage. But he was too late; it was thrown open to the
officer of the guard, who appeared, standing on the threshold.
"Two Confederate officers arrested hovering around our pickets. They
demand to see you."
Before Brant could interpose, two men in riding cloaks of Confederate
gray stepped into the room with a jaunty and self-confident air.
"Not DEMAND, general," said the foremost, a tall, distinguished-looking
man, lifting his hand with a graceful deprecating air. "In fact, too
sorry to bother you with an affair of no importance except to ourselves.
A bit of after-dinner bravado brought us in contact with your pickets,
and, of course, we had to take the consequences. Served us right, and we
were lucky not to have got a bullet through us. Gad! I'm afraid my
men would have been less discreet! I am Colonel Lagrange, of the
5th Tennessee; my young friend here is Captain Faulkner, of the 1st
Kentucky. Some excuse for a youngster like him--none for me! I"--
He stopped, for his eyes suddenly fell upon the bed and its occupant.
Both he and his companion started.


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