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"Good-bye, New Orleans soldier-boy," she said, gaily, and as I raised my cap she gave herself a fetching air and added, "I'll wager I know your name."

"Ain't you Major Harper's quartermaster-sergeant?" he asked.

Turn again thine eyes, maiden passing fair. O maiden passing fair, turn again thine eyes!"

"To what command do you belong?" he asked.

She struck a mock-sentimental attitude and murmured musically--

"Cruel to you?" I took her hand from my arm and held it.

"Right!" She laughed. "I wish a woman could choose that way. Oh! if you'll do that I'll go with you and stand guard over you!"

At the edge of the wood, where we had parted, I tied my horse, and crept along the moonlight shadows of the melon-patch to the stable. The door was ajar. In the interior gloom I passed my hands over the necks and heads of what I recognized to be the pair of small mules I had seen at Gallatin. Near a third stall were pegs for saddle and bridle, but they were empty. So was the stall; the mare was gone.

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