"Because it's orders, sir. She ordered me--that is, she asked me--to give you these letters at times when you seemed to need them most--when you were sick or in trouble, when anything had gone wrong. We couldn't figure so far on ahead when I ought to give you each one. I had to do my best. I didn't know at first, but now I see that you're sick. You're not yourself--you're in trouble. She told me not to let you know who carried them," he added rather inconsequently. "She said that that might end it all. She thought that you might come back."
"Come back--when?"
"She didn't know--we couldn't any of us tell--it was all a guess. All this about the letters was left to me, to do my best. I couldn't ask you, Captain, or any one. I don't know what was in the letters, sir, and I don't ask you, for that's not my business; but I promised her."
"What did she promise you?"
"Nothing. She didn't promise me pay, because she knew I wouldn't have done it for pay. She only looked at me, and she seemed sad, I don't know why. I couldn't help but promise her. I gave her my word of honor, because she said her letters might be of use to you, but that no one else must know that she had written them."
"When was all this?"
"At St. Louis, just before we started. I reckon she picked me out because she thought I was especially close to you. You know I have been so."
"Yes, I know, Shannon."
"I thought I was doing something for you. You see, she told me that her name must not be mentioned, that no one must know about this, because it would hurt a woman's reputation. She thought the men might talk, and that would be bad for you. I could not refuse her. Do you blame me now?"
"No, Shannon. No! In all this there is but one to blame, and that is your officer, myself!"
"I did not think there was any harm in my getting the letters to you, Captain. I knew that lady was your friend. I know who she is. She was more beautiful than any woman in St. Louis when we were there--more a lady, somehow. Of course, I'm not an officer or a gentleman--I'm only a boy from the backwoods, and only a private soldier. I couldn't break my promise to her, and I couldn't very well obey your orders unless I did. If I've broken any of the regulations you can punish me. You see, I held back this letter--I gave it to you now because I had the feeling that I ought to--that she would want me to. It is the fever, sir!"