The next and last face was that of a young man--a dark, fearless face; firmness was in every lineament, determination in every line. Fearless, yet frank; proud, yet tender; the face was that of one who would be powerful for good or evil, who would scorn alike death and dishonor. "War has severed the ties that bound us, my brother," spoke the captain. "Why can not political differences be settled without resort to arms? It is the ambitious and the great who stir up strife, and their humble followers fight their battles. They dwell in ease and safety, while my poor brother and I cross swords and shed each other's blood to uphold them in their greatness." He closed the locket and placed it in his breast pocket, and the look of sadness deepened on his face. There came a gentle knock on the board that took the place of a door to the captain's tent. "Come in," said Abner. The board was set aside, and a pale, fair youth, about eighteen years of age, entered. "Anything stirring yet, Willie?" asked the captain. "Nothing, captain, except an occasional picket's shot," replied the boy. "But, if you please, there is a fellow out here who wants to see you." "Who is he?" asked Abner. "I don't know, captain. I never saw him before. He is a bright mulatto, and he says he must see you. He is dressed in citizen's clothes and unarmed." "Let him come in, Willie." The youthful soldier touched his cap lightly and withdrew, and a moment later a tall, yellow mulatto entered. He looked sharply about the tent, as though fearing that some secret foe might suddenly spring upon him. "Have a seat," said Abner, pointing to the only unoccupied camp-stool that the tent afforded. The mulatto took the proffered seat and fixed his bright, yellowish dark eyes on the young officer. "Well, sir, what can I do for you?" asked the captain. "Nothin'," replied the mulatto with a grin on his shriveled yellow face. "Well, then, what can you do for me?" "Nothin'," the grin broadening. "Then, sir, what is your business here?" asked Abner, beginning to lose patience. "I came to tell you that I was--here," said the mulatto, with provoking coolness. "Well, what do you propose, now that you are here?" asked Abner, smiling in spite of himself. "Your name is Tompkins--you are Captain Abner Tompkins?" said the mulatto. "Yes." "You have a brother Oleah, who is a captain in the Confederate army, that is right across the hill here?" "Yes. What of him?" "Oh, he is well," said the mulatto. "What else have you to say?" asked Abner. "Your father is George W. Tompkins, who lives on a plantation near Snagtown?" "Yes. What of him?" "Oh, he's well, too." "Well, if you have anything to say, say it and be off," said Abner. "Your sister as you call her, who was left at your door when a baby--" "What of her?" cried Abner, eagerly. "Do you know anything of her?" "Yes, she is well, too."