Around the soldiers' fire; at night
Stars rose and set, and seasons rolled;
Flowers bloomed, and snowflakes fell,
Unquestioned, in her sight!"

Her career was full of adventure and intrepid daring, and she served the
disloyal cause she espoused faithfully and to the bitter end; and then,
like other wandering stars of the troubled sky, sank into oblivion. From
the time of Miss Boyd's visit until the seventh of May, Willard Glazier
continued to lead the same dull life at Libby Prison. The monotony of
the hours was unbroken by any circumstance more exciting than a visit
from the celebrated partisan chief, Mosby, who is described by Glazier
as a _preux chevalier_, at that time about twenty-eight years of age, in
figure slight, with straight fair hair and closely shaven face, except
that "a faded German moustache overshadowed his upper lip." It does not
appear that he was received as a welcome visitor, although he jocularly
remarked to some of the prisoners who had been captured by his own
troopers that he was "glad to see them there."

Time! what wonders dost thou work. But a few years have passed, and
Mosby, who was erst so malignant a rebel, that even the poor, but loyal,
prisoners, presented him the cold shoulder, is now a confidential friend
of the late Commander in chief of the Union Army! Longstreet, the rebel
General, again swears by the Star-Spangled Banner; and Beauregard, hero
of Sumter and Bull Run, is now an advocate of perfect equality between
the black and white races in his Southern State of Louisiana!

The visit of Colonel Mosby was the last memorable incident of our
hero's sojourn in "Libby." Upon the seventh of May following, the
prisoners were removed thence to Danville, Virginia. Several, in the
course of this transit, effected their escape, but the great majority
were safely conveyed to their new place of imprisonment. The change made
no improvement in their unhappy condition. True, the rations furnished
at Danville were of somewhat better quality, and more liberal in
quantity, but the discipline was equally Draconian, and the penalty of
its slightest infraction--death! The chief source of misery among the
captives was want of room, the men being compelled to sleep
"spoon-fashion," and in detachments, many being compelled to stand up
awake while their comrades slept as best they could.

This condition of things, however, did not last long. Early upon the
morning of the twelfth