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"Who?" I cried. "What! You don't mean to say--was that Lieutenant Ferry?"

As I mounted, our wagonmaster rode by me, busy as a skipper in a storm. "Oh, here!" he cried, wheeled, and reaching something to me added, "that's your pass. Major Harper wants you as quick as you can show up. He says never mind the column, ride straight after him. Keep this road to Hazlehurst and then go down the main Brookhaven road till you overtake him. He's by himself--nearly."

"And a suit of unie-fawm!" called Cécile, with her Creole accent.

"Ferry's scouts. What command is yours, gentlemen?"

The trio laughed, the young woman most musically.

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