gton, were soon briskly marching toward the
camp.

CHAPTER XIX.

Toward dusk of the same day, while Philip and his lieutenant were seated
at the rude pine table, conversing after their evening meal, the
sergeant of the guard entered with a slip of paper, on which was traced
a line in pencil.

"Is the bearer below?" asked Philip, as he cast his eyes over the paper.

"Yes, sir. He was challenged a minute ago, and answered with the
countersign and that slip for you, sir."

"It's all right, sergeant; you may send him up. Mr. Williams," he
continued, to his comrade, "will you please to look about a little and
see that all is in order. I will speak a few words with this messenger."

The lieutenant and sergeant left the room, and presently afterward there
entered, closing the door carefully after him, no less a personage than
Seth Rawbon.

"You're late," said Philip, motioning him to a chair.

"There's an old proverb to answer that," answered Rawbon, as he
leisurely adjusted his lank frame upon the seat. Having established
himself to his satisfaction, he continued:

"I had to make a considerable circuit to avoid the returning picket, who
might have bothered me with questions. I'm in good time, though. If
you've made up your mind to go, you'll do it as well by night, and safer
too."

"What have you learned?"

"Enough to make me welcome at headquarters. You were right about the
battle. There'll be tough work soon. They're fixing for a general
advance. If you expect to do your first fighting under the stars and
bars, you must swear by them to-night."

"Have you been in Washington?"

"Every nook and corner of it. They don't keep their eyes skinned, I
fancy, up there. Your fancy colonels have slippery tongues when the
champagne corks are flying. If they fight as hard as they drink, they'll
give us trouble. Well, what do you calculate to do?" he added, after a
pause, during which Philip was moody and lost in thought.

Philip rose from his seat and paced the floor uneasily, while Rawbon
filled a glass from a flask of brandy on the table. It was now quite
dark without, and neither of them observed the figure of a woman
crouched on the narrow veranda, her chin resting on the sill of the open
window. At last Philip resumed his seat, and he, too, swallowed a deep
draught from the flask of brandy.

"Tell me what I can count upon?" he asked.

"The same grade you have, and in a crack regiment. It's no use asking