st left, and suddenly I spied a handkerchief waving from behind
one of the big white pillars. Of course you've got to be wary in an
enemy's country, and these people were rabid Confederates, as I'd
occasion to know. All the same it would have been bad judgment to
neglect such a signal, and what's more, I'd have staked my life on that
girl's honesty. If the handkerchief had been a cannon I'd have gone
back. So back I went, taking a couple of men with me. As I jumped off my
horse I saw her standing inside the front door, back in the shadow, and
I ran up the steps to her.

"'Well?' said I.

"She looked up at me and laughed, showing a row of white teeth. That was
the first time I ever saw her laugh. 'I knew you'd come back,' said she,
as mischievous as a child, and her eyes danced.

"I didn't mean to be made a fool of, for I had my duty to think about,
so I spoke rather shortly. 'Well, and now I'm here--what?'

"With that she drew an excited little gasp. 'I couldn't let you be
killed,' she brought out in a sort of breathless whisper, so low I had
to bend over close to hear her. 'You mustn't go on--in that
direction--you'll be taken. The Union army's been defeated--at
Chancellorsville. They're driven north of the Rappahannock--to Falmouth.
Our troops are in their old camps. There's an outpost across the
ford--just over the hill.'

"It was the first I'd heard of the defeat at Chancellorsville, and it
stunned me for a second. 'Are you telling me the truth?' I asked her
pretty sharply.

"'You know I am,' she said, as haughty as you please all of a sudden,
and drew herself up with her head in the air.

"And I did know it. Something else struck me just about then. The old
lady and the servants were gone from the hall. There wasn't anybody in
it but herself and me; my men were out of sight on the driveway. I
forgot our army and the war and everything else, and I caught her bands
in between mine, and said I, 'Why couldn't you let me be killed?'"

At his words I drew a quick breath, too. For a moment I was the
Southern girl with the red-gold hair. I could feel the clasp of the
young officer's hands; I could hear his voice asking the rough, tender
question, "Why couldn't you let me be killed?"

"It was mighty still for a minute. Then she lifted up her eyes as I held
her fingers in a vise, and gave me a steady look. That was all--but it
was plenty.

"I don't know how I got on my horse or what order I gave, but my head
was