can?" she asked, after a
moment's hesitation. "You'll never have a better opportunity to rejoin
your command. You are not under parole, and you are under no
obligations to my brother. You have only to mount your horse, beckon to
your negro, and follow the path you will find at the back of the house.
It leads by a grist-mill. A part of your command has already passed on
the road beyond the mill, but if you will go now you will fall in with
the rear-guard."

"Beggin' pardon," said O'Halloran, taking off his hat to the lady, "the
lad has engagements wit' me. He's me twenty-ninth, all told, an'
there's luck in odd numbers. If it's all the same to you, mum, he'll
stay here."

"But it's not all the same to me, Mr. O'Halloran," she said, turning to
the Irishman. "I prefer that he should go."

His eyes grew bigger as he stared at the lady. "Oh----" he exclaimed,
and then paused with his mouth open. "Niver did I hope to see me
gallant Captain in this rig. It doesn't become ye at all. The trimmin's
make ye a fut shorter, an' be me soul! ye was short enough to begin
wit'." His amazement made her laugh, but she made no reply.

"Are you going?" she inquired, turning to me. I hesitated. Undoubtedly
here was an opportunity, but something or other--some feeling or
sentiment--call it what you will--held me back.

"Not now," I said, finally. "Some other time, perhaps, but not now." I
did not realize at the time why I held back--why I refused to be free.

She turned away from me with a petulant shrug of the shoulders, as much
as to say that she was no longer under obligations to me for preventing
her capture by the party that had raided the tavern. The big Irishman,
who had evidently recognized the little lady as a person of some
importance, went so far as to try to persuade me to make my escape, or,
rather, to take advantage of the escape I had already made.

"If ye're stayin' thinkin' he's a woman, don't do ut. Don't stop for to
say good-by, but straddle yure horse an' be off wit' ye."

But the little lady had a mind of her own, as I was shortly to
discover. After she had talked with the woman for a few minutes, she
turned to me.

"Will you ride with me a few miles?" she inquired. "Your negro can lead
your horse."

I agreed with such promptness and eagerness that a faint tinge of color
came into her face. But, in the bustle of getting away, I paid little
attention to her appearance until we were on the move again, and then