at low voice of hers that was hard to hear,
only it paid to listen.

"'Did you ever kiss any other man?' said I.

"'It's none of your business,' said the girl. 'But I didn't--the way you
mean.'

"'Well, it wouldn't make any difference, anyway--nothing would,' I said.
'Except this--are you ever going to?'

"All this time that bright-colored head of hers was on my shoulder,
Confederate cap and all, and I was afraid of my life to stir, for fear
she'd take it away. But when I said that I put my face down against
hers and repeated the question, 'Are you ever going to?'

"It seemed like ages before she answered and I was scared--yet she
didn't pull away,--and finally the words came--low, but I heard. 'One,'
said she. 'If he wants it.'

"Then--" the General stopped suddenly, and the splendid claret and
honey color of his cheeks went a dark shade more to claret. He had come
to from his trance, and remembered me. "I don't know why I'm telling you
all these details," he declared abruptly. "I suppose you're tired to
death listening." His alert eyes questioned me.

"General," I begged, "don't stop like that again. Don't leave out a
syllable. 'Then--'"

But he threw back his head boyishly and laughed with a touch of
self-consciousness. "No, madam, I won't tell you about 'then.' I'll
leave so much to your imagination. I guess you're equal to it. It wasn't
a second anyway before she gave a jump that took her six feet from me,
and there she was tugging at the girth of her saddle.

"'Quick--change the saddles!' she ordered me. 'I must be out of my mind
to throw away time when your life's in danger. They're coming around by
the bridge,' she explained, 'two miles down. And you have to have a
fresh mount. They'd catch you on that.' She threw a contemptuous glance
at my tired brute, and began unbuckling the wet straps with her little
wet fingers.

"'Don't do that,' said I. 'Let me.' But she pushed me away. 'Mustn't
waste time.' She gave her orders as business-like as an officer. 'Do
your own saddle while I attend to this. Zero can run right away from
anything they're riding--from anything at all. Can't you, Zero?' and she
gave the horse a quick pat in between unbuckling. He was a powerful,
rangy bay, and not winded by his run and his swim. 'He's my father's,'
she went on. 'He'll carry you through to General Hooker's camp at
Falmouth--he knows that camp. It's twenty-five miles yet, and you've
ridden fifty to-day, poor boy.'

"