"Hem, hem, hem!--my friends--hem, hem!--my dear friends, he, he, he!" chuckled the little fellow, looking as silly as it was possible for a man of his size, with glasses on, to look; "this gives me--hem, hem!--unbounded, I may say unlimited, satisfaction." At this moment another character entered on the scene. It was Crazy Joe; he paused a moment, and a look of recognition lit up his features. He walked forward, and, placing his hand on Diggs' shoulder, angrily demanded: "Why are you here, sir? Why did you not remain where I left you? When I make a man out of clay, and stand him up, I want him to stay where I leave him, until I can show people the greatness of my handiwork." It was impossible for those present to restrain their involuntary smiles, and Diggs, seeing this, lost his temper. "Go away, fool," he cried; "take off your hands." "Oh, Mr. Diggs, that is very unkind," said Irene. "Yes," said Crazy Joe, sorrowfully, as he left the room, "it is very unkind for him to address such language to the man who made him." In spite of themselves, those present could hardly restrain their laughter; but Mr. Diggs was easily pacified, and harmony was soon restored, and he related his hair-breadth escapes and miraculous victories. Oleah had interesting adventures to relate, and the humorous mishaps of our friend Mr. Diggs, brought out the long unheard-of music of Irene's laughter. During the evening he told his father of his meeting of Yellow Steve at Mrs. Juniper's ball. "Strange," said the father, "that he should have escaped us all. He knows something of Irene's history." Then he told Oleah what he himself had seen, and what Abner had told him of Yellow Steve's visit, the evening before the battle of Bull Run. "I will fathom this mystery," exclaimed Oleah, "though it takes a lifetime to do it. He shall reveal all he knows, the next time we meet, if he does it at the point of my sword." "Be not too rash, my son," said the father. "Never frighten a bird you wish to catch." Then his mother and Irene came in, and with a loving imperiousness, as his brother had done, he made Irene come out with him, walked through the same paths and sat down at last on the same seat, with the same words trembling on his lips. The sun had gone down, the moon was rising round and full in the East, and the whip-poor-wills were making night melodious with their song. Oleah was talking very earnestly to his fair companion; not only earnestly, but passionately. "Irene, you comprehend what I told you before I left my home to meet death and danger in the field, that the love I felt for you was deeper and stronger than a brother's. I love you--I love you more than all else on earth, more than life, and nothing shall keep you from me. You shall be mine--my wife."