ds all through these woods. I
hope you'll like the country."

The other drank again of the brown water. "It wasn't so bad in the
spring time. We thought it was awful lovely at first, all spangled with
flowers and birds.--Are you married?"

"No."

"Neither am I. But I'm going to be, when I get back to where I belong.
Her name's Flora."

"That's a pretty name."

"Yes, and she's pretty, too--" He half closed his eyes and smiled
blissfully, then rose from the laurels. "Well, I must be trotting along,
away from Cold Harbour. Funniest names! What does it mean?"

"It was an inn, long ago, where you got only cold fare. Shouldn't wonder
if history isn't going to repeat itself--" He rose, also, tall and
blonde. "Well, I must be travelling, too--"

"Rations getting pretty low, aren't they? How about coffee?"

"Oh, one day," said Allan, "we're going to drink a lot of it! No, I
don't know that they are especially low."

The blue scout dipped a hand into his pocket. "Well, I've got a packet
of it, and there's plenty more where that came from.--Catch, Reb!"

Allan caught it. "You're very good, Yank. Thank you."

"Have you got any quinine?"

"No."

The blue scout tossed across a small box. "There's for you! No, I don't
want it. We've got plenty.--Well, good-bye."

"I hope you'll get back safe," said Allan, "and have a beautiful
wedding."

The blue vanished in the underbrush, the grey went on his way through
the heavy forest. He was moving now toward sound, heavy, increasing,
presaging a realm of jarred air and ringing ear-drums. Ahead, he saw a
column of swiftly moving troops. Half running, he overtook the rear
file. "Scout?"--"Yes--Stonewall Brigade--" "All right! all right! This
is A. P. Hill's division.--Going into battle. Come on, if you want to."

Through the thinning woods showed a great open plain, with knolls where
batteries were planted. The regiment to which Allan had attached himself
lay down on the edge of the wood, near one of the cannon-crowned
eminences. Allan stretched himself beneath a black gum at the side of
the road. Everywhere was a rolling smoke, everywhere terrific sound. A
battery thundered by at a gallop, six horses to each gun, straining,
red-nostrilled, fiery-eyed. It struck across a corner of the plain. Over
it burst the shells, twelve-pounders--twenty-pounders. A horse went
down--the drivers cut the traces. A caisson was struck, exploded with
frightful glare and sound. About it, when th