e a prisoner. Jeanne paused as
the men stopped directly in front of her, and gave a cry of amazement at
sight of the man.

"You," she cried, in agitated tones. "Oh, I thought that you were on our
side!"

A loud burst of laughter came from the soldiers, and the prisoner became
very pale.

"I reckon the 'Little Yank' has called your death sentence, pardner," said
one of the Confederates, roughly. "That shows that you are a spy all right
enough."

"A spy," cried Jeanne, a light flooding her mind. "Oh, what have I done?
What have I done?"

"Do not grieve," said the young man, who was none other than the officer
whom she had aided in Memphis. "They strongly suspected it any way, and
were taking me to their Commanding officer for examination."

"There doesn't need to be much examination," said a Confederate, bluntly.
"Colonel Peyton will make short work of you."

"Whom did you say?" cried the young man in such agonized tones that all
turned to look at him.

"Colonel Peyton," was the reply. "Here he is now."

"What does this mean, boys?" asked Colonel Peyton, appearing in the door
of his tent. "What is the disturbance?"

"A feller that we caught sneaking round the camp," answered the leader,
gruffly. "He claims to be a Southerner, and I reckon he is one all right,
but his actions are decidedly suspicious. We were bringing him to you
when this girl recognized him, and called the turn on him as belonging to
the Federals."

"He is that worst of men, a Southerner who has turned against the State
that gave him birth and who takes up arms against her," said the Colonel
sternly, yet with emotion. "I know him, men, personally. He is an officer
in the Federal army. If he was prowling about here in those clothes he
is without doubt a spy. Unhappy man," he continued, turning to the
prisoner, "what have you to say for yourself?"

"Nothing," and the young fellow bowed his head upon his breast.

"You know the penalty of being caught as a spy," went on the pitiless
voice of the Colonel. "A spy is one of the most dishonorable of men, and
deserves any death given him. We have not much time for such. You die
at sunrise. Take him, men, and guard him well. I believe him to be a
dangerous man."

He turned back into his tent, and the soldiers started away with him, when
Jeanne darted to the young man's side, and caught his hand between her own.

"Forgive me," she sobbed. "I did not know what I was doing. Forgive me."

"Never mi