air fight. And, what's
more, he's never been licked in a fair fight in his life.'

"'And if your honor does lock me up,' the prisoner put in, 'I'll give
your honor a thunderin' big lickin' when I get out.'

"The Judge took off his coat.

"'Gentlemen,' said he, 'it's a powerful queer argument, but the Court
will admit it on its merits. The prisoner will please to step out on the
grass.'"

This time Virginia contrived merely to smile. She was striving against
something, she knew not what. Her breath was coming deeply, and she was
dangerously near to tears. Why? She could not tell. She had come into
this man's presence despising herself for having to ask him a favor. The
sight of his face she had ridiculed. Now she could not look into it
without an odd sensation. What was in it? Sorrow? Yes, that was nearest
it.

What had the man done? Told her a few funny stories--given quizzical
answers to some of her questions. Quizzical, yes; but she could not be
sure then there was not wisdom in them, and that humiliated her. She had
never conceived of such a man. And, be it added gratuitously, Virginia
deemed herself something of an adept in dealing with men.

"And now," said Mr. Lincoln, "to continue for the defence, I believe that
Colonel Colfax first distinguished himself at the time of Camp Jackson,
when of all the prisoners he refused to accept a parole."

Startled, she looked up at him swiftly, and then down again. "Yes," she
answered, "yes. But oh, Mr. Lincoln, please don't hold that against him."

If she could only have seen his face then. But her lashes were dropped.

"My dear young lady," replied the President, "I honor him for it. I was
merely elaborating the argument which you have begun. On the other hand,
it is a pity that he should have taken off that uniform which he adorned
and attempted to enter General Sherman's lines as a civilian,--as a spy."

He had spoken these last words very gently, but she was too excited to
heed his gentleness. She drew herself up, a gleam in her eyes like the
crest of a blue wave in a storm.

"A spy!" she cried; "it takes more courage to be a spy than anything else
in war. Then he will be shot. You are not content in, the North with what
you have gained. You are not content with depriving us of our rights, and
our fortunes, with forcing us back to an allegiance we despise. You are
not content with humiliating our generals and putting innocent men in
prisons. But now I suppose y