rk!"--as the sharp crack of a rifle was heard, and a prisoner who, half
crazed with suffering, had, in staggering about, approached too near the
fatal line and laid a hand upon it, fell dead--"another patriot soul has
gone to its account, and another rebel earned a thirty days' furlough."

The dark eyes of the speaker flashed with indignation.

"Poor fellows, they don't know that it is to preserve _their_ liberties we
fight, starve, and die; to save them from the despotism their ambitious
and unscrupulous leaders desire to establish over them," remarked Harold
Allison; "how grossly the masses of the Southern people have been deceived
by a few hot-headed politicians, bent upon obtaining power for themselves
at whatever cost."

"True," returned the other, drily; "but it's just a little difficult to
keep these things in mind under present circumstances. By the way,
Allison, have you a sister who married a Mr. Horace Dinsmore?"

"Yes, do you know Rose?" asked Harold, in some surprise.

"I was once a guest at the Oaks for a fortnight or so, at the time of the
marriage of Miss Elsie, Mr. Dinsmore's daughter, to a Mr. Travilla."

Harold's face grew a shade paler, but his tones were calm and quiet.
"Indeed! and may I ask your name?"

"Harry Duncan, at your service," returned the other, with a bow and smile.
"I met your three brothers there, also your sisters, Mrs. Carrington and
Miss May Allison."

The color deepened slightly on Harry's cheek as he pronounced the last
name. The pretty face, graceful form, charming manners, and sprightly
conversation of the young lady were still fresh in his memory. Having
enjoyed the hospitalities of Andersonville for but a few days, he was in
better condition, as to health and clothing, than the rest of the group,
who had been there for months.

"Harry Duncan!" exclaimed Harold, offering his hand, which the other took
in a cordial grasp and shook heartily, "yes, I know; I have heard of you
and your aunt, Miss Stanhope. I feel as if I'd found a brother."

"Thank you; suppose we consider ourselves such; a brother is what I've
been hankering after ever since I can remember."

"Agreed," said Harold. "Perhaps," he added, with a melancholy smile, "we
may find the fiction turned to fact some day, if you and one of my single
sisters should happen to take a fancy to each other; that is, if we live
to get out of this and to see home again." His tone at the last was very
desponding.

"Cheer