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My silence implied that I knew it, though I did not feel any brighter, happier or cleaner.

The General looked at me between puffs of his cigar. "I hear you've ridden over fifty miles to-day."

The trio laughed, the young woman most musically.

The heaviness of my soul, by reacting upon my frame and counterfeiting sleep better than I could have done it in cold blood, saved me, I fancy, from death or a northern prison. When I guessed my three visitors were gone I stirred, as in slumber, a trifle nearer the window, and for some minutes lay with my face half buried in the pillow. So lying, there stole to my ear a footfall. My finger felt the trigger, my lids lifted alertly, and as alertly reclosed. Outside the window one of the officers, rising by some slender foothold, had been looking in upon me, and in sinking down again and turning away had snapped a twig. He glanced back just as I opened my eyes, but once more my head was in shadow and the moonlight between us. When I peeped again he was moving away.

"You're not asking my permission?"

Her rejoinder came in a low, grieved monotone: "Did you say had hoped?"

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