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"Did you"--he began, and stopped; "did you notice a"--he stopped again.

"I'm most afraid," he said, abstractedly, as he read my detail, which Gholson brought in. "Here,"--he handed it to me--"and here, here's the despatch too."

Major Harper's black boy brought me the Yankee's horse with my bridle and saddle on him; an elegant animal as fresh as a dawn breeze. Also he produced a parcel, my new uniform, and a wee note whose breath smelt of lavender as it said,--

I was moving briskly along, making my good steed acquainted with me, testing his education, how promptly for instance, he would respond to rein-touch and to leg-pressure, when I saw, in front, coming toward me, three riders. Two of them were very genteel chaps, though a hand of each was on the lock of his carbine. The third was a woman, veiled, and clad in some dark stuff that in the starlight seemed quite black and contrasted strongly with the paleness of her horse. Her hat, in particular, fastened my attention; if that was not the same soft-brimmed Leghorn I had seen yesterday morning, at least it was its twin sister. I halted, revolver in hand, and said, as they drew rein,--"Good-evening."

"Why, I can read my safety in your face. You can't read anything in mine; you're afraid to look."

"I don't believe you! I don't believe you ever had cause for one!" She laid a hand again upon mine.

"Coralie! Coralie Rothvelt!"--my cry was an honest one--"you tempt me beyond human endurance."

"Well, I reckon I'll stop all night." I began to move on. His eyes followed greedily.

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