ine melyons, ripe and sweet; no green
trash; dis un good right through. Five cents each, sah. Bery cheap,
dese."

"I expect they cost you nothing, Sambo," one of the Confederate soldiers
said as he bought a melon. "Got a neighbor's patch handy, eh?"

Dan grinned at the joke, and then selecting another from the bottom of
his pile in the basket, offered it to Vincent.

"Dis fine fruit, sah. Me sure you please with him!"

Vincent took the melon and handed Dan five cents. A momentary glance was
exchanged, and then he walked away and sat down in a quiet corner of the
yard and cut open the melon. As he expected, he found a note rolled up
in the center. A small piece of the rind had been cut out and the pulp
removed for its reception. The bit of rind had then been carefully
replaced so that the cut would not be noticed without close inspection.
It was from one of his fellow-officers, and was dated the day after his
capture. He read as follows:

"My Dear Wingfield:

"We are all delighted this afternoon to hear that instead, as we had
believed, of your being knocked on the head you are a prisoner among the
Yanks. Several of us noticed you fall just as we halted at the river,
and we all thought that, from the way in which you fell, you had been
shot through the head or heart. However, there was no time to inquire in
that terrific storm of shot and shell. In the morning, when the burying
parties went down, we could find no signs of you, although we knew
almost to a foot where you had fallen.

"We could only conclude at last that you had been carried off in the
night by the Yanks, and as they would hardly take the trouble of
carrying off a dead body, it occurred to us that you might, after all,
be alive. So the colonel went to Lee, who at once sent a trumpeter with
a flag down to the river to inquire, and we were all mightily pleased,
as you may imagine, when he came back with the news that you were not
only a prisoner, but unwounded, having been only stunned in some way.
From the way you fell we suppose a round shot must have grazed your
head; at least that is the only way we can account for it.

"Your horse came back unhurt to the troop, and will be well cared for
until you rejoin us, which we hope will not be long. Your boy kept the
camp awake last night with his howlings, and is at present almost out of
his mind with delight. He tells me he has made up his mind to slip
across the lines and make his way as a runaway to