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almost pleasing. "Good-bye, Smith, remember your failings."

"He noticed you," said Gholson; "he looked back at you and your bay. Wouldn't you like to turn back and see his horse?"

"Smith," said the Colonel, and then smoked and smiled again till my brow beaded,--"tired?"

"Why, then?"

"Who don't belong to Ferry's scouts at all," I still more sweetly added.

She came without her horse, pointing eagerly at the brightness of the sky above the unrisen moon. "Diana!" she whispered, and tossed a kiss toward it. "You saw me put the mare into the stable and go into the house by the back door?"

"Hmm; Charlotte Oliver. Are you sure you have the name just right?"

"Tell her I tried to keep my promise to her."

Our intercourse became more amiable and the fellow dragged in his advice that I spend the rest of the night at the house of Mr. Oliver. His acquaintance with that gentleman seemed to grow while we talked, and broke into bloom like a magician's rosebush. He described him as a kind old bird who made hospitality to strangers his meat and drink. A conjecture darted into my mind. "Why, yes! that is his married son, is he not, yonder in the cabin; the one with the fair hair?"

"No, I think you said it;--sounds like you."

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