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I clenched my teeth. "I am nineteen, madam."

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

"Oh, I--I wish he wouldn't play cards. Smith, I've seen him play cards with the shells bursting over us!"

Rills of perspiration tickled my back like flies. "Can't one man do the work?"

"Good-evening," replied the nearer man. "How far is it to camp--Austin's?"

"Those? That one is the Virgin's sheaf; and those two are the Balances."

She became frigid. "Do you know who and what Charlotte Oliver is?--No? Well, to begin with, she's a married woman--but pshaw! you believe nothing till it's proved. If I tell you who and what I am will you do what I've asked you; will you promise not to stop at Lucius Oliver's house?" She softly reached for my hand and pressed and stroked it. "Don't stop there, dear. Oh, say you will not!"

The rifle cracked, but its ball sang over us; a shot answered it behind me; the howling man's voice died in a gurgle, and Sergeant Jim ran by me, leaped upon the horse that had stayed beside his fallen rider, and was off hot-footed after the other. "Turn your prisoner over to Kendall, Smith," he cried, "and put out like hell for Clifton!"

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