een the "Witch of
Endor," she could not have been any more disagreeable to Somers. He was
as fond of adventure as any young man; and if he could have forgotten
that poor Owen Raynes, the son and the brother, was at that moment lying
in the mud of the swamp; his manly form no more to gladden the hearts of
those who stood before him; his voice hushed in death, no more to utter
the accents of affection to the devoted father and his loving sister--if
he could have forgotten his relations with the dead Owen, he might even
have enjoyed the exciting situation in which he was placed.

Sue, with a blushing face and half-averted gaze, stepped out into the
road, and stole a few timid glances at the young lieutenant. It was quite
evident that she did not have a suspicion of the identity of the young
soldier before her. Her father appeared to have a vein of romance in his
character, and was disposed to torture her for a time with the torments
of suspense, before he declared to her the astounding truth, that the
young soldier was her well-known but hitherto unseen friend from Alabama,
the bosom companion of her brother Owen, and, if everything worked as the
loving conspirators intended, the future husband of the affectionate
maiden.

She did not like to ask who the stranger was; and she thought it was very
provoking of her father not to tell her, when she was so fearfully
embarrassed by her position. She continued to blush; and Somers felt so
awkward, that he couldn't help joining her in this interesting display of
roses on the cheeks.

"Don't you know him, Sue?" demanded the farmer, when he had tantalized
her as long as the circumstances would warrant.

"Why, of course I don't, father!" stammered the Virginia maiden.

"Look in his face, and see if you can't tell," persisted Mr. Raynes.

"How absurd, father!"

"Absurd, child? Not at all absurd! Haven't you his picture in the house?
And, if I mistake not, you have looked at it as many as three times a day
for the last year."

"Now, father, you are too bad! I haven't done anything of the sort,"
protested Sue, pouting and twisting her shoulders as any country girl,
who had not been trained in a satinwood seminary, would have done under
such trying circumstances. "You don't mean to say that is Allan Garland?"
added she, her pretty face lighting up with an expression of intense
satisfaction.

"But I do, Sue," replied Mr. Raynes with emphasis.

"Why, Allan! I am so glad to see