am most desirous of crossing the river, but can find no boat
with which to do so."

"Why did you not cross by the bridge?" the girl asked. "How did you miss
the straight road?"

"Frankly, because there were Northern troops there," Vincent said, "and
I wish to avoid them, if possible."

"You are a Confederate?" the girl asked, when the old negress
interrupted her:

"Hush, Miss Lucy! don't you talk about dem tings; der plenty of mischief
done already. What hab you to do wid one side or de oder?"

The girl paid no attention to her words, but stood awaiting Vincent's
answer. He did not hesitate. There was something in her face that told
him that, friend or foe, she was not likely to betray a fugitive, and he
answered:

"I am a Confederate officer, madam. I have made my escape from Elmira
prison, and I am trying to find my way back into our lines."

"Come in, sir," the girl said, holding out her hand. "We are
Secessionists, heart and soul. My father and my brother are with our
troops--that is, if they are both alive. I have little to offer you, for
the Yankee bands have been here several times, have driven off our
cattle, emptied our barns, and even robbed our hen nests, and taken
everything in the house they thought worth carrying away. But whatever
there is, sir, you are heartily welcome to. I had a paper yesterday--it
is not often I get one--and I saw there that three of our officers had
escaped from Elmira. Are you one of them?"

"Yes, madam. I am Lieutenant Wingfield."

"Ah! then you are in the cavalry. You have fought under Stuart," the
girl said. "The paper said so. Oh, how I wish we had Stuart and
Stonewall Jackson on this side! We should soon drive the Yankees out of
Tennessee."

"They would try to, anyhow," Vincent said, smiling, "and if it were
possible they would assuredly do it. I was in Ashley's horse with the
Stonewall division through the first campaign in the Shenandoah Valley
and up to Bull Run, and after that under Stuart. But is not your brother
here? Your servant called to him."

"There is no one here but ourselves," the girl replied. "That was a
fiction of Chloe's, and it has succeeded sometimes when we have had
rough visitors. And now, what can I do for you, sir? You said you wanted
to buy a loaf of bread, and therefore, I suppose, you are hungry. Chloe,
put the bacon and bread on the table, and make some coffee. I am afraid
that is all we can do, sir, but such as it is you are heartily