fortifications at all."

"Confound it!" exclaimed the Lieutenant in a vexed tone, "a Northern man
can never get anything out of these Virginia farmers!"

Prescott stared at him and grinned a little.

"Go on!" said the Lieutenant, waving his hand in anger. "There's a camp
of ours a mile farther ahead. They'll stop you, and I only hope they'll
get as much out of you as I have."

Prescott gladly obeyed the command and the Northern horsemen galloped
off, their hoof-beats making little noise in the snow. But as he drove
on he turned his head slightly and watched them until they were out of
sight. When he was sure they were far away he stopped his own horses.

"Will you wait here a moment in the wagon, Miss Catherwood, until I go
to the top of the hill?" he asked.

She nodded, and springing out, Prescott ran to the crest. There looking
over into the valley, he saw the camp of which the Lieutenant had
spoken, a cluster of tents and a ring of smoking fires with horses
tethered beyond, the brief stopping place of perhaps five hundred men,
as Prescott, with a practised eye, could quickly tell.

He saw now the end of the difficulty, but he did not rejoice as he had
hoped.

"Beyond this hill in the valley, and within plain view from the crest,
is the camp of your friends, Miss Catherwood," he said. "Our journey is
over. We need not take the wagon any farther, as it belongs to our
sleeping friend, the farmer, but you can go on now to this Northern
detachment--a raiding party, I presume, but sure to treat you well. I
thank God that the time is not yet when a woman is not safe in the camp
of either North or South. Come!"

She dismounted from the wagon and slowly they walked together to the top
of the hill. Prescott pointed to the valley, where the fires glowed
redly across the snow.

"Here I leave you," he said.

She looked up at him and the glow of the fires below was reflected in
her eyes.

"Shall we ever see each other again?" she asked.

"That I cannot tell," he replied.

She did not go on just yet, lingering there a little.

"Captain Prescott," she asked, "why have you done so much for me?"

"Upon my soul I do not know," he replied.

She looked up in his face again, and he saw the red blood rising in her
cheeks. Borne away by a mighty impulse, he bent over and kissed her, but
she, uttering a little cry, ran down the hill toward the Northern camp.

He watched her until he saw her draw near the fires and men