"Well, I just care because you care, Jennie--"

"You're a brave Southern boy fighting for our rights--you care for that,
too."

"Oh yes, of course, but that's not the big thing after all, little
girl--"

He paused and seized her hand.

She blushed and drew it gently away.

"Please--not that now--"

"Why--not now?"

He asked the question in tones so low they were almost a gasp. He felt
his doom in the way she had withdrawn her hand.

"Because--" she hesitated just a moment to strike the blow she knew
would hurt so pitifully and then went on firmly, "I've met my fate,
Dick--and pledged him my heart."

The Captain lifted his shoulders with a little movement of soldierly
pride, held himself firmly, mastered the first rush of despair and then
spoke with assumed indifference:

"Socola?"

Jennie smiled faintly.

"Yes."

He rose awkwardly and started to the door. Jennie placed her hand on his
wounded arm with a gesture of pathetic protest.

"Dick!"

"I can't help it, I must go--"

"Not like this!"

"I can't smile and lie to you. It means too much. I hate that man. He's
a scoundrel, if God ever made one--"

Jennie's hand slipped from his arm.

"That will do now--not another word--"

"I beg your pardon, Jennie," he stammered. "I didn't think what I was
saying, honey. It just popped out because it was inside. You'll forgive
me?"

The anger died in her eyes and she took his outstretched hand.

"Of course, I understand--and I'm sorry. I appreciate the love you've
given me. I wish in my heart I could have returned it. You deserve it--"

The Captain lifted his left hand.

"No pity, please. I'm man enough to fight--and I'm going to fight.
You're not yet _Signora_ Socola--"

The girl laughed.

"That's more like a soldier!"

"We'll be friends anyhow, Jennie?"

"Always."

The Captain left the Senator's house with a grim smile playing about his
strong mouth. He had made up his mind to fight for love and country on
the same base. He would ask for his transfer to the Secret Service of
the Confederacy.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE PATH OF GLORY

Jefferson Davis had created the most compact and terrible engine of war
set in motion since Napoleon founded the Empire of France. It had been
done under conditions of incredible difficulty, but it had been done.
The smashing of McClellan's army brought to the North the painful
realization of this fact. Abraham Lincoln must call for another half
millio