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"Well, no. It's the horse he captured the time he got the Yankee who had him prisoner."

"By ganny!" exclaimed one, and--"You're a coon," murmured the other, as the new-comers drew near. The younger of these also was a private. Behind his elbow was swung a Maynard rifle. Both carried revolvers. The elder wore a long straight sword whose weather-dimmed orange sash showed at the front of a loose cut-away jacket. Under this garment was a shirt of strong black silk, made from some lady's gown and daintily corded with yellow. On the jacket's upturned collar were the two gilt bars of a first lieutenant, but the face above them shone with a combined intelligence and purity that drew my whole attention.

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

I turned upon her choking with anger, but her melting beauty rendered me helpless. Black woods were on our left. "Shall we turn in here?" I asked.

"Come!" I echoed. We swung into the broader road and followed the contrabands.

"General Austin believes it is. You're being used to bait a trap, Richard."

"My mother! Do you know my mother?"

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