efore?" I
suggested.

"Miss Ryder knows I meant no such thing," said the officer with some
heat.

"Is this Miss Lucy Ryder?" I inquired.

"What do you know of Lucy Ryder?" the lady asked.

"I know she has a sister Jane," I answered, whereupon the lady blushed
again. "And I have heard that Miss Jane doesn't like a friend of
ours--a young fellow named Jack Bledsoe, who is greatly in need of
sympathy at this time."

"I like him well enough to go on a wild-goose chase in search of him,"
the lady replied. "We had an idea that he had been left on the
battle-field."

Harry, who had been consulting with our comrades who had just arrived,
returned in time to overhear a part of this conversation. He fumbled in
his pocket and finally produced Jack Bledsoe's note. He lifted his hat
as he handed it to the lady. She read it very calmly, and then passed
it to the Federal officer who had escorted her: "You see, I am
justified in coming."

"We sat up with Jack last night, my friend and I," Harry remarked.

"Well, you know the Bible tells us to love our enemies," remarked the
lady, dryly.

"It was an easy matter to carry out the commandment in this particular
instance, for, with the exception of this gentleman here"--indicating
me--"Jack Bledsoe is the dearest friend I ever had."

"I know you well enough," the lady remarked with a smile. "You are
Harry Herndon, and your friend there is Carroll Shannon, and the negro
is Whistling Jim. Why, I know your grandmother, although I have never
seen her."

"That doesn't help us now. How are we to find Captain Bledsoe?" asked
the officer. I could have slapped him for the tone he employed.

"It is all provided for," replied Harry Herndon, curtly. "All you have
to do is to hold on to the pommel of your saddle. There is a
non-combatant here who will guide you. Bill!"

"I'm a-lis'nin' at ye," responded the guide from the bushes.

"This is one of the natives," Harry explained. "His wife is taking care
of Jack Bledsoe and he will have no difficulty whatever in showing you
the way."

The officer thanked us ungraciously, though why he took that attitude I
was unable to discover, and we were on the point of joining our
comrades when the lady remarked: "You'll probably know me again when
you see me, Mr. Carroll Shannon!" This was a rebuke, I knew, and it
upset me not a little, but there was something in the tone of her voice
that sounded like a challenge, and I remarked that I should be