m to see
the stitches, and there was nothing to do except to wait until the tired
eyes were dry again.

The sentry on duty knocked, opened the door, and admitted a
weather-stained aide-de-camp, warning her respectfully:

"Orders for you, ma'am."

The Special Messenger cleared her eyes, breathing unevenly, and unsealed
the dispatch which the officer handed her.

When she read it she opened a door and called sharply to a hospital
orderly, who came running:

"Fit me with a rebel cavalry uniform--you've got that pile of
disinfected clothing in the basement. I also want one of our own cavalry
uniforms to wear over it--anything that has been cleaned. Quick,
Williams; I've only a few minutes to saddle! And bring me that bundle of
commissions taken from the rebel horsemen that were brought in
yesterday."

And to the mud-splashed aide-de-camp who stood waiting, looking out of
the window at the gunboat which was now churning in toward the wharf,
billows of inky smoke pouring from the discolored stacks:

"Please tell the general that I go aboard in half an hour. Tell him I'll
do my best." In a lower voice: "Ask him not to forget my brother--if
matters go wrong with me. He has given me his word.... And I think that
is all, thank you."

The A.-D.-C. said, standing straight, hollow-backed, spurred heels
together:

"Orders are verbally modified, madam."

"What?"

"If you do not care to go--it is not an order--merely a matter of
volunteering.... The general makes no question of your courage if you
choose to decline."

She said, looking at the officer a little wearily:

"Thank the general. It will give me much pleasure to fulfill his
request. Ask him to bear my brother in mind; that is all."

The A.-D.-C. bowed to her, cap in hand, then went out, making
considerable racket with sabre and boots.

Half an hour later a long, deep, warning blast from the gunboat's
whistle set the echoes flying through the hills.

Aboard, leading her horse, the Special Messenger, booted and spurred, in
a hybrid uniform of a subaltern of regulars, handed the bridle to a
sailor and turned to salute the quarterdeck.

* * * * *

The United States gunboat, _Kiowa_, dropped anchor at the railroad wharf
two days later, and ran out a blackened gangplank. Over it the Special
Messenger, wrapped in her rubber cloak, led her horse to shore, mounted,
and galloped toward the hill where the flag of corps hea