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One o'clock. Miss Harper suggested a halt to feed the horses. I, knowing what it would cost me to dismount and go walking about, said no, thrice no; let us first get back upon the main road in front of that battery. On, therefore, we hurried, and soon the reality of the war was vivid to us again. In a stretch of wet road where the team had mutely begged leave to walk and the ladies had urged me to sing we had at length paused in a pebbly rivulet to allow the weary animals to drink, and the girls and the aunt and the greenwood and I were all in chorus bidding somebody

"Oh, no, no! I cannot let you!" She clutched the hand she had been stroking.

"My God! she shall not!" I cried, and whirled about and galloped back.

"Good-morning, Smith, who is your prisoner?"

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

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