ive she lifted her eyes, suffused, but full of
hope, to his, and said:--

"God grant you the heart to do it, sir, and bless you."

The man laughed. Her eyes fell, she blushed, and, saying not a word,
turned toward the door and had reached the threshold when the officer
called, with a certain ringing energy:--

"Mrs. Richling!"

She wheeled as if he had struck her, and answered:--

"What, sir!" Then, turning as red as a rose, she said, "O sir, that was
cruel!" covered her face with her hands, and sobbed aloud. It was only
as she was in the midst of these last words that she recognized in the
officer before her the sharper-visaged of those two men who had stood by
her in Broadway.

"Step back here, Mrs. Richling."

She came.

"Well, madam! I should like to know what we are coming to, when a lady
like you--a palpable, undoubted lady--can stoop to such deceptions!"

"Sir," said Mary, looking at him steadfastly and then shaking her head
in solemn asseveration, "all that I have said to you is the truth."

"Then will you explain how it is that you go by one name in one part of
the country, and by another in another part?"

"No," she said. It was very hard to speak. The twitching of her mouth
would hardly let her form a word. "No--no--I can't--tell you."

"Very well, ma'am. If you don't start back to Milwaukee by the next
train, and stay there, I shall"--

"Oh, don't say that, sir! I must go to my husband! Indeed, sir, it's
nothing but a foolish mistake, made years ago, that's never harmed any
one but us. I'll take all the blame of it if you'll only give me a
pass!"

The officer motioned her to be silent.

"You'll have to do as I tell you, ma'am. If not, I shall know it; you
will be arrested, and I shall give you a sort of pass that you'd be a
long time asking for." He looked at the face mutely confronting him and
felt himself relenting. "I dare say this does sound very cruel to you,
ma'am; but remember, this is a cruel war. I don't judge you. If I did,
and could harden my heart as I ought to, I'd have you arrested now. But,
I say, you'd better take my advice. Good-morning! _No, ma'am, I can't
hear you!_ So, now, that's enough! Good-morning, madam!"

CHAPTER LIII.

TRY AGAIN.

One afternoon in the month of February, 1862, a locomotive engine and a
single weather-beaten passenger-coach, moving southward at a very
moderate speed through the middle of Kentucky, stopped in response to a
handkerchief