ion, and not to bring on a fight.

"It is nothing but a stump, after all," said the officer.

The report of the gun re-echoed far and near. The night was still, and
he could hear other pickets talking out in the field on his right hand
and on his left. How fortunate! He knew where they were, and now could
avoid them. But ought he not to turn back? He resolved not to be
frightened from his object. After lying still awhile, he went back along
the road, then turned aside, walked softly from tree to tree, careful
not to crackle a twig beneath his feet, crept on his hands and knees
through the thick underbrush, and gained the road in the rear of the
picket. Being inside of the enemy's lines, he knew that he could move
more freely, for if any of the sentinels heard him they would think it
one of their own number. He walked on, but suddenly found himself
standing face to face with a dozen soldiers.

"Well, Jim, are there any Yankees down there?" one asked.

"The sentinel thought he saw a Yankee, but I reckon he fired at a
stump," said Paul, passing boldly by them to their rear.

He now saw that he was in a Rebel camp. There were smouldering fires,
tents, a cannon, baggage-wagons, and horses which were munching their
grain. What should he do? He felt that he was in a critical situation.
If taken, he would be hung as a spy. He stood still and reflected a
moment, to calm his nerves. He had blundered in, perhaps he might get
out. He would try; but as he was there, ought he not to improve the
opportunity to find out all about the camp, how large it was, how many
men there were? He counted the baggage-wagons and the tents. He almost
stumbled over a man who was wrapped in his blanket. It was an officer
sound asleep, with his sword by his side. He was sleeping so deeply that
Paul ventured to take the sword, for he thought, unless he carried
something back as evidence, his report would not be believed. And then
he crept back past the grand guard, and past the sentinels, sometimes
crawling an inch at a time, then stepping as noiselessly as a cat in
search of her prey, till he was past them all. He was surprised to find
how cool and self-possessed he was, how clear his brain, and how wide
awake were all his faculties. He was as light-hearted as a bird in
spring-time, for even in the darkness, while he was dimly discerning
what was around him, he saw Azalia, as he last beheld her in the
gravelled walk before her home, waving him on! A