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My silence implied that I knew it, though I did not feel any brighter, happier or cleaner.

"Deserters, I don't doubt!" was my comment to the ladies. Tongue revenge is poor, but it is something.

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"What do you mean?" I demanded. "To whom are you pledged for any such--"

We came as close to them as was wise, and had to walk our horses. I could discern Miss Rothvelt's features once more, and felt a truer deference than I had yet given her. Near the blacksmith's shop, in the dusk of some shade-trees, she once more touched my shoulder. I turned resentfully to bid her not do it, but her shadowy gaze stopped me.

"Ah!"--he gave a Creole shrug--"that you must decide, on the honor of a good soldier. She has taken you into her confidence?"

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