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"Yes, so called. He wa'n't a lieutenant then, he was a clerk, like you or me."

"Don't interrupt me, Smith. Yes, Clifton. You're not to reach there to-night--"

"I don't believe you! I don't believe you ever had cause for one!" She laid a hand again upon mine.

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?"

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