a six-pound shot right
through his head and neck. Whoever made that shot killed two birds with
one stone, sho!" He was half risen from his seat, looking back. As he
turned again, and sat down, the drooping black sun-bonnet quite
concealed the face within. He looked at it a moment. "If you think you
don't like the risks we can still turn back."

"No," said the voice from out the sun-bonnet; "go on."

"If we don't turn back now we can't turn back at all."

"Go on," said Mary; "I can't turn back."

"You're a good soldier," said the man, playfully again. "You're a better
one than me, I reckon; I kin turn back frequently, as it were. I've done
it 'many a time and oft,' as the felleh says."

Mary looked up with feminine surprise. He made a pretence of silent
laughter, that showed a hundred crows' feet in his twinkling eyes.

"Oh, don't you fret; I'm not goin' to run the wrong way with you in
charge. Didn't you hear me promise Mr. Thornton? Well, you see, I've got
a sort o' bad memory, that kind o' won't let me forgit when I make a
promise;--bothers me that way a heap sometimes." He smirked in a
self-deprecating way, and pulled his hat-brim down in front. Presently
he spoke again, looking straight ahead over the horse's ears:--

"Now, that's the mischief about comin' with me--got to run both
blockades at oncet. Now, if you'd been a good Secesh and could somehow
or 'nother of got a pass through the Union lines you'd of been all gay.
But bein' Union, the fu'ther you git along the wuss off you air, 'less-n
I kin take you and carry you 'way 'long yonder to where you kin jess
jump onto a south-bound Rebel railroad and light down amongst folks
that'll never think o' you havin' run through the lines."

"But you can't do that," said Mary, not in the form of a request. "You
know you agreed with Mr. Thornton that you would simply"--

"Put you down in a safe place," said the man, jocosely; "that's what it
meant, and don't you get nervous"-- His face suddenly changed; he
raised his whip and held it up for attention and silence, looking at
Mary, and smiling while he listened. "Do you hear anything?"

"Yes," said Mary, in a hushed tone. There were some old fields on the
right-hand now, and a wood on the left. Just within the wood a
turtle-dove was cooing.

"I don't mean that," said the man, softly.

"No," said Mary, "you mean this, away over here." She pointed across the
fields, almost straight away in front.

"'Taint so scan