you order me out of your room, then?" she went on with
becoming humility.

"This room is not mine, I am a prisoner, madam. I have no choice as to
my guests."

"But you will soon be free," returned the girl, quietly. "That is, as
soon as General Beauregard learns that I--I--"

"Give yourself no concern, Miss Glen," he said loftily; "I shall not
betray you."

"What! You won't tell him?" with a perfect assumption of profound
amazement.

"I will not," sternly.

"But they say--I heard--you are to--be--court-martialled."

Her voice sank to a low whisper, as if she were awestricken by the
heavy tidings.

"I am."

"And that you will be found guilty--"

"I shall be."

"And--you may--be--shot!"

"You should have thought of that last night when you arrested me,
imprisoned me, and so made me false to my duty; but what's the use--"
He checked the swift rush of his indignation and continued in bitter
calm: "A woman who could so trifle with a soldier's honor cannot
appreciate the consequences to him."

"I am sure," she went on very humbly, "that I didn't realize what would
happen."

"Of course not," sarcastically.

"And I am willing to make any amends that I can. I will tell General
Beauregard myself that I did it. That it was my fault. That I alone am
to blame."

"I forbid you to do it!" he exclaimed with great energy.

"I do not care what you say, I shall do it!" stubbornly.

"You do not know what it means," he urged, his heart leaping at the
thought that she was willing to set him right and take the blame upon
herself--and she loved him after all! Yet he could not permit her to do
it. "You do not know what this would mean to you," he repeated. "It was
an act of high treason to the South. They will put you in my place.
They will certainly punish you."

"Would they shoot me?" she inquired in her most terrified manner, her
eyes wide open with beautifully simulated terror.

[Illustration: "'Would they shoot me?' she inquired."]

He felt so sorry for the poor little frightened thing. He longed to
gather her up in his arms and comfort her, reassure her.

"They might," he returned, stepping nearer to her and visibly
unbending. "I cannot have you take the risk. I won't allow it!"

There was something nice, after all, in the imperative mood, she
thought.

"But how will you prevent it, Mr. Sempland?"

"I tell you, I forbid you!"

"But if I disobey? I never promised to obey you, did I?--that is, not
yet?"