serted by all the world.

No, not alone! There, coming out of the forest, was a single horseman,
the grandest figure that she had ever seen--a man above six feet in
height, as strong and agile as a panther, his head crowned with
magnificent bushy black hair, and his face covered with a black beard,
through which gleamed eyes as black as night. He rode, a very king, she
thought.

The man came straight toward the window of the log house, the feet of
his horse making no sound upon the turf. Here was one who had come to
bid her good-by.

She put her hand through the open window, and General Wood, the
mountaineer, bending low over his horse's neck, kissed it with all the
grace and gallantry of an ancient knight.

"I hope that you will come back," she said softly.

"I will, I must, if you are here," he said.

He kissed her hand again.

"Your brother?" he added.

"He is still asleep."

"What a pity his wounds are so bad! We'll need him to-day."

"Is it coming? Is it really coming to-day, under these skies so peaceful
and beautiful?" she asked in sudden terror, though long she had been
prepared for the worst.

"Grant is in the Wilderness."

She knew what that meant and asked no more.

Wood's next words were those of caution.

"There is a cellar under this house," he said. "If the battle comes near
you, seek shelter in it. You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"And now good-by."

"Good-by," she said.

He kissed her hand again and, without another word, turned and rode
through the forest and away. She watched him until he was quite out of
sight, and then her eyes wandered off toward the east, where the new
sun was still piling up glowing bands of alternate red and gold.

Her brother stirred on the bed and awoke. He was fretful that morning.

"Why is the place so silent?" he asked, with the feeling of a vain man
who does not wish to be left alone.

"I do not know," she replied, though well she knew.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Markham entered, dressed as if
for the street--fresh, blonde and smiling.

"You two are up early, Helen," she said. "What do you see there at the
window?"

"Nothing," replied Helen. She did not tell any one of the parting with
Wood. That belonged to her alone.

A coloured woman came with the breakfast, which was served on a little
table beside Harley's bed. He propped himself up with a pillow and sat
at the table with evident enjoyment. The golden glory of the new su