ls of the
marshes perpetually swept his path with flying shadows; at times it
seemed as if even the uncertain ground around him itself arose and sped
away on dusky wings. The vicinity of hidden pools and sloughs was
betrayed by startled splashings; a few paces from their marching feet
arose the sunlit pinions of a swan. The air was filled with
multitudinous small cries and pipings. In this vocal confusion it was
some minutes before he recognized the voice of one of his out-flankers
calling to the other.

An important discovery had been made. In a long tongue of bushes that
ran down to the Marsh they had found a mud-stained uniform, complete
even to the cap, bearing the initial of the deserter's company.

"Is there any hut or cabin hereabouts, Schmidt?" asked Calvert.

"Dot vos schoost it, Lefdennun," replied his corporal. "Dot vos de
shanty from der Kingvisher--old Gulbebber. I pet a dollar, py
shimminy, dot der men haf der gekommt."

He pointed through the brake to a long, low building that now raised
itself, white in the sunlight, above the many blackened piles. Calvert
saw in a single reconnoitring glance that it had but one approach--the
flight of steps from the Marsh. Instructing his men to fall in on the
outer edge of the brake and await his orders, he quickly made his way
across the space and ascended the steps. Passing along the gallery he
knocked at the front door. There was no response. He repeated his
knock. Then the window beside it opened suddenly, and he was
confronted with the double-muzzle of a long ducking-gun. Glancing
instinctively along the barrels, he saw at their other extremity the
bright eyes, brilliant color, and small set mouth of a remarkably
handsome girl. It was the fact, and to the credit of his training,
that he paid more attention to the eyes than to the challenge of the
shining tubes before him.

"Jest stop where you are--will you!" said the girl determinedly.

Calvert's face betrayed not the slightest terror or surprise. Immovable
as on parade, he carried his white gloved hand to his cap, and said
gently, "With pleasure."

"Oh yes," said the girl quickly; "but if you move a step I'll jest blow
you and your gloves offer that railin' inter the Marsh."

"I trust not," returned Calvert, smiling.

"And why?"

"Because it would deprive me of the pleasure of a few moments'
conversation with you--and I've only one pair of gloves with me."

He was still watching her bea