in was lumbering past, and back of these, just wheeling around
the corner, approached another column of horsemen. It would be madness
for me to emerge from concealment yet, for even if I remained unnoticed
by those marching troops, still there would surely be some stragglers
about the premises seeking water. I sat down, staring out, endeavoring
to decide about how large this Confederate force was--surely it composed
all of Beauregard's corps, and, once united with Johnston, would render
the Federal position extremely dangerous, perhaps untenable. Yet even
now my warning of the sudden movement would be of comparatively small
value, as the gap was too nearly closed for any swift advance to
separate the two armies. All I could hope to accomplish was to prevent a
surprise attack on our own exposed lines. And this could never be
attempted before the next morning, even if Johnston swung his columns
to the left in anticipation of Beauregard's approach. The troops were
too thoroughly exhausted by the forced march to be hurled immediately
into battle--they must be fed and rested first. Convinced as to this I
remained quiet, glancing idly about the room, until sounds outside
attracted attention.

A company--or possibly two--of cavalry was drawn up on the road directly
fronting the house, their centre opposite the open gate, but I was
compelled to lean out in order to discover just what was occurring on
the driveway. A squad of a dozen horsemen, powdered with dust, yet
excellently mounted, were riding slowly toward the veranda. The man
slightly in advance was slender, with dark moustache and goatee, sitting
straight in his saddle, and on the collar of his gray coat were the
stars of a general officer. Even the hasty glance gained told me his
identity--Beauregard. As this cavalcade turned at the corner of the
house, I drew back, shadowed by the curtain, able thus both to see and
hear. At the bottom of the steps the Confederate chieftain halted, and
bowed, hat in hand.

"Judge Moran, I presume. While we have never previously met, yet your
name has long been familiar. Probably I need not introduce myself."

The judge, his face beaming hospitality, grasped the outstretched hand,
but Beauregard's dark, appreciative eyes were upon the girl standing at
Moran's side.

"Your daughter, sir?" he asked quickly.

"Not so fortunate, General. This is Miss Willifred Hardy, of the
'Gables.'"

"Ah, yes!" the stern face instantly brightened b