she well knew how to write, in behalf of Sallie. It was ostensibly on
quite another theme; asking some information in regard to a comrade, but
so cunningly devised and executed as to tell him in few words, and
unsuspiciously, some news of Sallie,--news which she knew would delight
his heart, and overthrow the little barrier which had stood between
them, making both miserable, but which he would not, and she could not,
clamber over or destroy. It did its work effectually, and made two
hearts thoroughly happy,--this letter which had so strangely bewitched
Surrey; which, in his heart, spite of the ridicule of his reason, he
was so sure was hers; and which, indeed, was hers, though he knew not
that till long afterward.

"So," he thought, as he went through the camp, "Given is here, and near.
I shall be glad to see a face from home, whatever kind of a face it may
be, and Given's is a good one; it will be a pleasant rememberance."

"Whither away?" called a voice behind him.

"To the 29th," he answered the questioner, one of his officers and
friends, who, coming up, took his arm,--"in pursuit of a man."

"What's his name?"

"Given,--christened James. What are you laughing at? do you know him?"

"No, I don't know him, but I've heard some funny stories about him; he's
a queer stick, I should think."

"Something in that way.--Helloa! Brooks, back again?" to a fine,
frank-looking young fellow,--"and were you successful?"

"Yes, to both your questions. In addition I'll say, for your rejoicing,
that I give in, cave, subside, have nothing more to say against your pet
theory,--from this moment swear myself a rank abolitionist, or anything
else you please, now and forever,--so help me all ye black gods and
goddesses!"

"Phew! what's all this?" cried Whittlesly, from the other side of his
Colonel; "what are you driving at? I'll defy anybody to make head or
tail of that answer."

"Surrey understands."

"Not I; your riddle's too much for me."

"Didn't you go in pursuit of a dead man?" queried Whittlesly.

"Just that."

"Did the dead man convert you?"

"No, Colonel, not precisely. And yet yes, too; that is, I suppose I
shouldn't have been converted if he hadn't died, and I gone in search of
him."

"I believe it; you're such an obstinate case that you need one raised
from the dead to have any effect on you."

"Obstinate! O, hear the pig-headed fellow talk! You're a beauty to
discourse on that point, aren't you!"

"Su