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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."

"Oh, sir," cried Estelle, whose eyes, brows, lashes and hair were all of the same luminous red-brown, and in whose cheeks the rose seemed always to burn through the olive, "how can you and your people seek to kill such men as that?"

"Yes, General." "If I give you a good fresh horse can you go twenty-three miles more by midnight?"

"Why, I suppose I'm to find there a road down Cole's Creek to Clifton."

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

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "To whom are you pledged for any such--"

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