eah," sullenly.

"What is your name?" He had a trick of coloring easily.

"What may be _yoh_ name, suh?" she retorted with a little flash of
Southern spirit, never entirely quenched even in such as she seemed to
be.

Genuine surprise brought the red back into his face and made it, worn as
it was, seem almost handsome. The curious idea came to her that she had
seen him before somewhere. At the same moment speech seemed to tremble
on his lips; he hesitated, looked at her with a new and sudden keenness,
and stood looking.

"I expected to meet somebody here," he said at length.

She did not seem to comprehend.

"I expected to meet a woman here."

"Who? Me?" incredulously.

He looked her over carefully; looked at her dusty bare ankles, at her
walnut-smeared face and throat. She seemed so small, so
round-shouldered--so different from what he had expected. They had said
that the woman he must find was pretty.

"Was yuh-all fixin' to meet up with _me_?" she repeated with a bold
laugh.

"I--don't know," he said. "By the Eternal, I don't know, ma'am. But I'm
going to find out in right smart time. Did you ever hear anybody speak
Latin?"

"Suh?" blankly; and the audacity faded.

"Latin," he repeated, a trifle discomfited. "For instance, '_sic itur_.'
Do you know what '_sic itur_' means?"

"Sick--what, suh?"

"'_Sic itur!_' Oh, Lord, she _is_ what she looks like!" he exclaimed in
frank despair. He walked to the door, wheeled suddenly, came back and
confronted her.

"Either, ma'am, you are the most consummate actress in this war drama,
or you don't know what I'm saying, and you think me crazy.... And now
I'll ask you once for all: _Is this the road_?"

The Special Messenger looked him full in the eyes; then, as by magic,
the loveliest of smiles transfigured the dull, blank features; her round
shoulders, pendulous arms, slouching pose, melted into superb symmetry,
quickening with grace and youth as she straightened up and faced him,
erect, supple, laughing, adorable.

"_Sic itur--ad Astra_," she said demurely, and offered him her hand.
"Continue," she added.

He neither stirred nor spoke; a deep flush mounted to the roots of his
short, curly hair. She smiled encouragement, thinking him young and
embarrassed, and a trifle chagrined.

"Continue the Latin formula," she nodded, laughing; "what follows, if
you please----"

"Good God!" he broke out hoarsely.

And suddenly she knew there was nothing to follow ex