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"If I go to sleep," I said,--"you know how I dream. I shall have one of those dreams of mine to carry around in my memory for a year, like a bullet in my back." So there the dear fellow had sat all night to give me my hourly powders of reassurance that I could be a quartermaster's clerk without shame.

"Have you met any officer riding toward them?"

I had not. Her driver gathered the reins and I drew back.

"You'll be the first prisoner I ever shot if you get any funnier!"

I snatched the document from my bosom, into which I had thrust it to seize the General's hand "Oh, Gholson!" I said, in deep-toned grief, as I looked up from the superscription, "is that honest!"

"Mis-ter Smith! you wrote that?--to-day! Wh'--who is she?"

"One too modest," I murmured, "to know her own portrait." I clutched the braid emotionally and let it go intending to retake it; but she dropped it behind her and said I was too imaginative to be safe.

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

"I am but human."

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