d her friend, "am I not to have a look at the
strangers? Oh, I declare--yes, I _do_ believe I know that horse. It
must be--"

"It is Colonel Washington and some other officer whom I do not know,"
said Miss Elliott, who had regained her self-possession completely.
"You have your wish, Rebecca."

The two visitors cantered rapidly up the broad avenue, and found Billy
waiting to receive them. One was a tall, soldierly-looking man of
about twenty-eight, his fine face bronzed by exposure, and his easy
seat in the saddle betokening one who had been a horseman from his
youth. He wore the blue coat with yellow facings and the buckskin
breeches of the Continental cavalry, his red sash bound over a broad
sword-belt which supported a strong sabre, while the handsome and
well-muscled bay mare which he rode carried a leather portmanteau in
addition to the heavy bearskin holster. His large cavalry-boots were
well bespattered, and his whole bearing was that of an officer
on duty, rather than of a gallant bent on visiting lady fair. His
companion was a mere youth, seemingly not over seventeen, well mounted
also, and dressed in the simple uniform of an orderly, but evidently
the friend and social equal of his superior officer. The young man sat
his horse with the ease and grace of one born to the saddle, and his
fiery chestnut seemed to know and understand his rider thoroughly.
Like the other, he was provided with holsters and portmanteau, a heavy
blue cavalry cloak being strapped over the unstuffed saddle-tree.
Entering the drawing-room, Colonel Washington presented his companion
to Miss Elliott as "Mr. Peyton of Virginia," and both gentlemen were
in turn presented to Miss Stead, who received their courtly bows with
one of those graceful, sweeping courtesies which may be ranked among
the lost arts of a past generation. Billy had followed the guests to
the parlor-door, where he stood as if waiting orders.

"You seem to have ridden far," said: the fair hostess when the
ordinary salutations had passed. "Let me order your horses to the
stable to be fed."

"I thank you very kindly, miss, but there will be scarcely time,
for we are under marching orders, and must be in Charleston before
sunset," replied the colonel with a bow; and there was something
in his tone which faintly suggested a mental desire to see the said
marching orders in Jericho.

Perhaps young Peyton detected this, for he said immediately, "I think
we had best accept Mi