olate, and Prescott thought it was now time to end
the pursuit. He pressed forward with increased speed, and she, hearing
the sound of a footstep behind her, looked back. He heard in the dead
stillness of the night the low cry of fright that broke from her. She
stood for a moment as if the power of motion had departed, and then fled
like a wounded deer, with Prescott, more than ever the hunter, swiftly
following after.

He was surprised at her speed. Clearly she was long-limbed and strong,
and for the time his energies were taxed to keep within sight of her
fleeing figure. But he was a man, she a woman, and the pursuit was not
long. At last she sank, panting, upon a fallen log, and Prescott
approached her, a strange mingling of triumph and pity in his heart.

She looked up and there was appeal in her face. Again he saw how young
she was, how pure the light of her eyes, how delicately moulded each
feature, and surprise came, as a third emotion, to mingle with the
triumph and pity, and not in a less degree.

"Ah, it is you," she said, and in her tone there was no surprise, only
aversion.

"Yes, it is I," replied Prescott; "and you seemed to have expected me."

"Not in the way that you think," she replied haughtily.

A wonderful change came over her face, and her figure seemed to stiffen;
every lineament, every curve expressed scorn and contempt. Prescott had
never before seen such a remarkable transformation, and for the moment
felt as if he were the guilty one and she the judge.

While he was wondering thus at her attractive personality, she rose and
stood before him.

"Now, sir," she said, "you shall let me go, Mr.----Mr.----"

"I am Captain Robert Prescott of the Confederate Army," said Prescott.
"I have nothing to conceal," and then he added significantly: "At
present I am on voluntary duty."

"I have seen enough of you," she said in the same unbending tone. "You
have given me a fright, but now I am recovered and I bid you leave me."

"You mistake, Madam or Miss," replied Prescott calmly, recovering his
composure; "you and I have not seen enough of each other. I am a
gentleman, I hope, at least I have passed for one, and I have no intent
to insult you."

"What is your wish?" she asked, still standing before him, straight and
tall, her tone as cold as ice.

"Truly," thought Prescott, "she can carry it off well, and if such
business as this must be done by a woman, hers is a mind for the task."
But aloud