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"Yes, so called. He wa'n't a lieutenant then, he was a clerk, like you or me."

"Wait a moment," she murmured, and watched the promenading pair turn back. Then she asked if I had read my mother's letter. I said I had. And then, very pensively, with head bent and eyes once more down, she inquired if I liked to get letters. Which led, quite accidentally, to my asking leave to write to her.

The three laughed again and the men sank their carbines across their laps, while in a voice as refined as her figure their companion said, "Good-evening, Mr. Smith." She laid back her veil and even in the darkness I felt the witchery of her glance. "I was just coming to meet you," she continued, "to get the letter you're bringing me from General Austin. I feared you might try to come around by Fayette, not knowing the Yankees are there. These gentlemen didn't know it." "She just did save us!" laughed the man hitherto silent.

"Yes." She stooped low under the interlacing boughs and plunged with me into the double darkness.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "To whom are you pledged for any such--"

"Why haven't I got it right?"

"And was care for me your only motive in--"

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