hat the slight protecting
feeling, born of the fact that she was a woman and, it seemed, helpless,
remained in his mind.

"Are you alone in that house?" he asked, still speaking curtly and
pointing toward the wooden cottage.

"No," she replied.

Prescott looked at her inquiringly. He thought that he detected the
faintest twinkle in her eyes. Could it be that a woman in such a
position was laughing at the man who had helped her? He felt his face
grow red.

"You wish to know who is there?" she said.

"I do not wish to know anything of the kind."

"You do, and I shall tell you. It is merely a woman, an old maid,
perhaps as friendless as myself, Miss Charlotte Grayson. I need not add
that she is a woman of right mind and sympathies."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She wishes to see the quick end of this hateful rebellion. Oh, I tell
you there are many who think as she does, born and bred within the
limits of this Confederacy. They are far more numerous than you rebels
suspect."

She spoke with sudden fire and energy, and Prescott noticed again that
abrupt stiffening of the figure. He saw, too, another curious
effect--her eyes suddenly turned from dark-blue to black, an invariable
change when she was moved by a passion.

"It is always safe for a woman to abuse a man," replied Prescott calmly.

"I am not attacking you, but the cause you serve--a hateful cause. How
can honest men fight for it?" she said.

Prescott heard footsteps in the main street--it was not many yards from
there to the point in the little side street where he stood--and he
shrank back in the shadow of the fence.

"You do not wish to be seen with me," she said.

"Naturally," replied Prescott. "I might have to answer inquiries about
you, and I do not wish to compromise myself."

"Nor me?" she said.

"Perhaps it is too late for that," replied Prescott.

Her face flushed scarlet, and again he saw that sudden change of the
eyes from dark-blue to threatening black. It occurred to him then that
she was handsome in a singular, challenging way.

"Why do you insult me?" she asked.

"I was not aware that I had done so," he replied coolly. "Your pursuits
are of such a singular nature that I merely made some slight comment
thereon."

She changed again and under drooping eyelids gave him that old imploring
look, like the appeal of a child for protection.

"I am ungrateful," she said, "and I give your words a meaning that you
do not intend. Bu