“Because Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like him. I’ve got to put my hands over my eyes to protect them from the blaze of that uniform.”
St. Clair, who wore his new uniform, which was modelled somewhat after the brilliant fashion of Stuart’s, smiled with content. He was making a great hit.
“You can do all the talking, Harry,” he said.
“As I told you, he isn’t President Davis,” Harry called, “but he’s sure, when he’s old enough, to be one of his successors.”
“Bet you a dollar, Johnny Reb, that President Davis has no successor.”
“Take you, Yank, and I’ll collect that bet from you when I ride down Pennsylvania Avenue in my Confederate uniform at the head of the Army of Northern Virginia.”
“Oh, no, you won’t; you’ll pay it to me before the State House in Richmond, with the Army of the Potomac looking on and the Stars and Stripes waving gracefully over your head.”
“Both of you are betting on things too far off,” said Langdon, who could keep out of the conversation no longer. “I’ll bet you two dollars that not one of those four men in the boat catches a fish inside of ten minutes.”
“In Confederate bills or in money?” was called back.
Roars of laughter, from both sides of the Rappahannock, crossed one another above the middle of the stream.
“What’s this?” exclaimed a sharp voice behind the four. “Conversation with the enemy! It’s against all the rules of war!”
They looked around and saw Bertrand, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling. Harry leaned back lazily, but St. Clair spoke up quickly.
“We’ve been having conversations off and on with the enemy for two years,” he said. “We’ve had some mighty hot talks with bullets and cannon balls, and some not so hot with words. Just now we were having one of the class labelled ‘not so hot.'”
“What’s the matter with you Johnnies?” was called across. “You’ve broken off the talk just when it was getting interesting. Are you going to back out on that bet? We thought you had better manners. We know you have.”
“You’re right, we have,” said St. Clair, shouting across the stream, “but we were interrupted by a man who hasn’t.”
“Oh, is that so?” was called back. “If you’ve troubles of your own, we won’t interfere. We’ll just look on.”
Bertrand was pallid with rage.
“I’m a captain in the Invincibles, Mr. St. Clair,” he said, “and you’re only a lieutenant. You’ll return to your regiment at once and prepare a written apology to me for the words that you’ve just used to those Yankees.”
“Oh, no, I won’t do either,” drawled St. Clair purposely. “It is true that a captain outranks a lieutenant, but you’re a company commander and I’m a staff officer. I take no orders from you.”
“Nevertheless you have insulted me, and there is another and perhaps better way to settle it.”
He significantly touched the hilt of his sword.
“Oh, if you mean a duel, it suits me well enough,” said St. Clair, who was an expert with the sword.
“Early to-morrow morning in the woods back of this point?”
“Suits me.”
“Your seconds?”
Then Harry jumped to his feet in a mighty wrath and indignation.
“There won’t be any duel! And there won’t be any seconds!” he exclaimed.
“Why not?” asked Bertrand, his face livid.
“Because I won’t allow it.”
“How can you help it?”
“It’s a piece of thunderation foolishness! Two good Southern soldiers trying to kill each other, when they’ve sworn to use all their efforts killing Yankees. It’s a breach of faith and it’s silliness on its own account. You’ve received the hospitality of my father’s house, Captain Bertrand, and he’s helped you and been kind to you elsewhere. You owe me enough at least to listen to me. Unless I get the promise of you two to drop this matter, I swear I’ll go straight to General Jackson and tell all about it. He’ll save you the trouble of shooting each other. He’ll have you shot together. You needn’t frown, either of you. It’s not much fun breaking the rules of a Presbyterian elder who is also one of the greatest generals the world has ever seen.”