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

"How on earth should I know?"

"Well, say; maybe you'll tell us who this is we're about to meet up with."

His smile darkened. "I am your prisoner," he said, with a sudden splendid stateliness, and right then I guessed who he was.

An instant his superb eye resented, but then he pleasantly did my bidding. "Suits me well; rather chance it with you than with those I've just left."

The General asked me a number of idle questions and then said my prisoner had called me a good soldier. Old Dismukes smiled so broadly that I grew hot, believing the Yankee had told them of my tears.

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