had not gone many paces when a
party of three or four officers came along.

"Hallo, you, sir, what the deuce are you doing here?" one asked angrily.
"Don't you know nobody is allowed to pass through the lines?"

"I didn't see no lines. What sort of lines are they? No one told me
nothing about lines. My mother sent me out to sell plantation liquor,
fifteen cents a glass."

"What's it like?" one of the officers said, laughing. "Spirits, I will
bet a dollar, in some shape or other. Pour me out a glass. I will try it
anyhow."

Vincent filled the little tin mug and handed it to the officer. As he
lifted his face to do so there was a sudden exclamation:

"Vincent Wingfield!" and another officer, drawing his sword, attacked
him furiously, shouting, "A spy! Seize him! A Confederate spy!"

Vincent recognized with astonishment, in the Federal officer rushing at
him with uplifted sword, his old antagonist, Jackson. Almost
instinctively he whirled the can, which was still half full of liquor,
round his head and dashed it full in the face of his antagonist, who was
knocked off his feet by the blow. With a yell of rage he started up
again and rushed at Vincent. The latter snatched up a shovel that was
lying close by and stood his ground. The officers were so surprised at
the suddenness of the incident and the overthrow of their companion, and
for a moment so amused at the latter's appearance, covered as he was
from head to foot with the sticky liquor and bleeding from a cut
inflicted by the edge of the can, that they were incapable of
interference.

Blinded with rage, and with the liquid streaming into his eyes, Jackson
rushed at Vincent. The latter caught the blow aimed at him on the edge
of the shovel, and then swinging his weapon round, smote his antagonist
with all his strength, the edge of the shovel falling fairly upon his
head. Without a cry the traitor fell dead in his tracks. The other
officers now drew their swords and rushed forward. Vincent, seeing the
futility of resistance, threw down his shovel. He was instantly seized.

"Hallo, there!" the senior officer called to the men, who had stopped in
their work and were gazing at the sudden fray that had arisen, "a
sergeant and four men!" Four of the negro soldiers and a sergeant at
once stepped forward. "Take this man and conduct him to the village. Put
him in a room, and stay there with him. Do you, sergeant, station
yourself at the door, so that I shall know where