[The Littlest Rebel by Edward Peple]@TWC D-Link book
The Littlest Rebel

CHAPTER VI
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The one moved forward toward a seat, staggering as he walked, and catching himself on the table's edge, while the other's hand went out to lend him aid; but the Southerner waved him off.
"Thank you," he said, as he sank into a chair.

"I don't _want_ help--from _you_!" "Why not ?" asked Morrison.
"Because," said Cary, in sullen anger, "I don't ask quarter, nor aid, from a man who frightens children." The Northerner's chin went up; and when he replied his voice was trembling; not in passion, but with a deeper, finer something which had gripped his admiration for the courage of a child: "And I wouldn't hurt a hair of her splendid little head!" He paused, then spoke again, more calmly: "You thought me a beast to frighten her; but don't you know it was the only thing to do?
Otherwise my men might have had to shoot you--before her eyes." Cary made no answer, though now he understood; and Morrison went on: "It isn't easy for me to track a fellow creature down; to take him when he's wounded, practically unarmed, and turn him over to a firing squad.

But it's war, my friend--one of the merciless realities of war--and you ought to know the meaning of its name." "Yes, I know," returned the Southerner, with all the pent-up bitterness of a hopeless struggle and defeat; "it has taken three years to teach me--_and I know_! Look at me!" he cried, as he stood up in his rags and spread his arms.

"Look at my country, swept as bare as a stubble field! You've whipped us, maybe, with your millions of money and your endless men, and now you are warring with the women and the children!" He turned his back and spoke in the deep intensity of scorn: "A fine thing, Colonel! And may you get your ...

reward!" The Northerner set his lips in a thin, cold line; but curbed his wrath and answered the accusation quietly: "There are two sides to the question, Cary; _but there must be one flag_!" "Then fly your flag in justice!" the Southerner retorted hotly, wheeling on his enemy, with blazing eyes and with hands that shook in the stress of passion.


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