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"Are you not a New Orleans boy?" she asked as I lifted my képi and drew rein.

I said one might respect religion even if he did not--

But, after all, fortune was merciful, and I was gone; the Major had summoned me--his brother had come. I went circuitously and alone. As I started, some fellow writhing on the grass cried, "Charlie Tol--oh, this is better than a tcharade!" and a flash of divination enlightened me. While I went I burned with shame, rage and nervous exhaustion; the name Scott Gholson had gasped in my ear was the name of her in the curtained wagon, and I cursed the day in which I had heard of Charlotte Oliver.

"Some of our boys attacked by a rabbit," I suggested, but still hearkened.

I surrender, he said, with amiable ease.

"My dear Smith," said Miss Rothvelt, "keep your trust. But if I part here with these two kind gentlemen--"

"They're going down into the woods together!"

Dolt that I was, I would have drawn her close, but she put me off with an outstretched arm and forbidden smile. "No!--No! this is a matter of life and death."

"General Austin believes it is. You're being used to bait a trap, Richard."

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