he change in his visitor's face,
and the abruptness of his departure.

Once in the street, Brant tore off the envelope. But beneath it was
another, on which was written in a delicate, refined hand: "Please do
not open this until you reach your destination."

Then she knew he was going! And perhaps this was her influence? All his
suspicions again returned. She knew he was going near the lines, and his
very appointment, through her power, might be a plot to serve her and
the enemy! Was this letter, which she was entrusting to him, the cover
of some missive to her Southern friends which she expected him to
carry--perhaps as a return for her own act of self-sacrifice? Was this
the appeal she had been making to his chivalry, his gratitude, his
honor? The perspiration stood in beads on his forehead. What defect lay
hidden in his nature that seemed to make him an easy victim of these
intriguing women? He had not even the excuse of gallantry; less
susceptible to the potencies of the sex than most men, he was still
compelled to bear that reputation. He remembered his coldness to Miss
Faulkner in the first days of their meeting, and her effect upon his
subalterns. Why had she selected him from among them--when she could
have modeled the others like wax to her purposes? Why? And yet with the
question came a possible answer that he hardly dared to think of--that
in its very vagueness seemed to fill him with a stimulating thrill and
hopefulness. He quickened his pace. He would take the letter, and yet be
master of himself when the time came to open it.

That time came three days later, in his tent at Three Pines Crossing. As
he broke open the envelope, he was relieved to find that it contained
no other inclosure, and seemed intended only for himself. It began
abruptly:--

"When you read this, you will understand why I did not speak to you
when we met last night; why I even dreaded that you might speak to
me, knowing, as I did, what I ought to tell you at that place and
moment--something you could only know from me. I did not know you were
in Washington, although I knew you were relieved; I had no way of seeing
you or sending to you before, and I only came to Mrs. Boompointer's
party in the hope of hearing news of you.

"You know that my brother was captured by your pickets in company with
another officer. He thinks you suspected the truth--that he and his
friend were hovering near your lines to effect the escape of the spy.
Bu