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"Why, hardly, if I'm behindhand now. Is it so fine as that?"

"Well, go get some sleep.--No, go at once; you'll be called when needed."

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"Read the address on your despatch," said Gholson, resuming his pen.

I was moving briskly along, making my good steed acquainted with me, testing his education, how promptly for instance, he would respond to rein-touch and to leg-pressure, when I saw, in front, coming toward me, three riders. Two of them were very genteel chaps, though a hand of each was on the lock of his carbine. The third was a woman, veiled, and clad in some dark stuff that in the starlight seemed quite black and contrasted strongly with the paleness of her horse. Her hat, in particular, fastened my attention; if that was not the same soft-brimmed Leghorn I had seen yesterday morning, at least it was its twin sister. I halted, revolver in hand, and said, as they drew rein,--"Good-evening."

"Cruel to you?" I took her hand from my arm and held it.

"Oh, that's all right, I was only asking a friendly question."

"They were neither of them present, Lieutenant; that hand was Miss Coralie Rothvelt's."

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