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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."

"Nor no woman?" I asked, and again across the back of my neck my two companions gazed at each other.

"What's the name, General, of the man whose house I'm to go to?"

She threw my hand from her. "I know I do! I'm so unworthy to do it that I wouldn't have believed I could. You thought I was Charlotte Oliver--Heavens! boy, if you should breathe the atmosphere Charlotte Oliver has to live in! But understand again, for your soul's comfort, you haven't tempted me. Go, if you must; go, take your chances; and if you're spared ever to see your dear, dear little mother--"

"Two--what?" His smile broadened. "You know that?"

"No, Lieutenant, I don't believe he had anything to do with it; and I've no absolute proof, either, that he was at the bridge to rob or kill me. I threatened his life first, sir. At any rate that hand under my pillow was neither his nor his father's."

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