he madness of that scramble
to save my skin I had a sudden revelation of why life was sweet----"

He stopped and she scarcely breathed. Her heart seemed to cease beating.
Her dry lips refused to speak the question she would ask. The sweet
moment of pain and of glory had come. She felt his trembling hand seize
her ice-cold fingers as he went on impetuously:

"Life was sweet because--because--I love you, Betty."

She sprang to her feet trembling from head to foot. He followed,
whispering:

"My own, I love you--I love you----"

With sudden fierce strength he clasped her in his arms and covered her
lips with kisses.

She lifted her trembling hands:

"Please--please----"

Again he smothered her words and held her in mad close embrace.

"Let me go--let me go!" she cried with sudden fury, thrusting him from
her, breathless, her eyes blinded with tears.

"Tell me that you love me!" he cried with desperate pleading.

The splendid young figure faced him tense, quivering with rage.

"How dare you take me in your arms like that without a word?" Her eyes
were flashing, her breast rising and falling with quick furious
breathing.

He seized her hand and held it with cruel force. Her eyes blazed and he
dropped it. She was thinking of the scene with his slender chivalrous
brother. She could feel the soft kiss on the tips of her fingers and the
blood surged to her face at the thought of this man's lips pressed on
hers in mad, strangling passion without so much as by your leave! She
could tear his eyes out.

He looked at her now in a hopeless stupor of regret.

"Forgive me, Betty," he faltered. "I--I couldn't help it."

Her eyes held his in a cold stare:

"I suppose that's all any woman has ever meant to you, and you took me
for granted----"

He lifted his hand in protest.

"Please, please, Miss Betty," he groaned.

"You may go now," she said with slow emphasis.

He looked at her a moment dazed, and a wave of sullen anger slowly
mounted his face to the roots of his black tangled hair, which he
suddenly brushed from his forehead.

Without a word he walked out into the storm, his jaws set. The door had
scarcely closed, when the trembling figure crumpled on the lounge in a
flood of bitter tears.

CHAPTER XI

THE MAN ON HORSEBACK

Before the sun had set on the day of storm which followed the panic at
Bull Run, the President had selected and summoned to Washington the man
who was to create the first Gr