the trembling of it.

"Oh, you fool! You _woman_!" she said, through her closed teeth.

She commenced one letter, blotted it in her nervous impatience, turned
it aside and commenced another, when Captain Monroe appeared at the
window with a glass of wine in his hand.

"Why this desertion from the ranks?" he asked, jestingly, yet with
purpose back of the jest. She recognized, but ignored it.

"That you might be detailed for special duty, perhaps, Captain Jack,"
she replied, without looking around.

"I have to look up stragglers," and he crossed to the desk where she
sat. "I even brought you a forgotten portion of your lunch."

She looked up at that, saw the glass, and shook her head; "No, no wine
for me."

"But it would be almost treasonable to refuse this," he insisted. "In
the first place it is native Carolina wine we are asked to take; and
in the second, it is a toast our bear of the swamps--Mr. Loring--has
proposed, 'our President.' I evaded my share by being cup-bearer to
you." He offered the glass and looked at her, meaningly, "Will you
drink?"

"Only when you drink with me," she said, and smiled at the grim look
touching his face for an instant.

"To the President of the Southern Confederacy?" he asked.

"No!--to _our_ President!"

She took the glass, touched the wine to her lips, and offered the
remainder to him, just as Colonel McVeigh entered from the lawn. He
heard Captain Monroe say, "With all my heart!" as he emptied the
glass. The scene had such a sentimental tinge that he felt a swift
flash of jealousy, and realized that Monroe was a decidedly attractive
fellow in his own cool, masterful way.

"Ah! a tryst at mid-day?" he remarked, with assumed lightness.

"No; only a parley with the enemy," she said, and he passed out into
the hall, picking up his hat from the table, where he had tossed it
when he entered in the morning.

Monroe walked up to the window and back again. She heard him stop
beside her, but did not look up.

"I have almost decided to take your advice, and remain only one night
instead of two," he said, at last. "I can't approve what you are doing
here. I can't help you, and I can't stay by and be witness to the
enchantment which, for some reason, you are weaving around McVeigh."

"Enchantment?"

"Well, I can't find a better word just now. I can't warn him; so I
will leave in the morning."

"I really think it would be better," she said, looking up at him
frankly. "Of al