CHAPTER VIII. CAPTAIN MORLAND AGAIN SURPRISED. “Some one to see you, Captain Morland,” was the greeting he received upon reaching his tent. Entering he saw a person standing in the center of the apartment as if anxiously awaiting his coming. “Captain Morland, I believe,” said the visitor. “At your service, sir. I do not recognize you in the darkness, though your voice has a familiar ring.” “I would see you alone a few minutes, captain.” “Very well; I will give directions not to be disturbed. I will be back in a moment.” He soon returned closing the tent opening behind him. “Will you please make known your errand?” “Is it possible, brother,” said the other lowly, “that my disguise is so complete you do not recognize me?” Had a cannon-ball dropped at his feet Captain Morland could not have been more surprised. “What! Mara! you here?” “Hush! don’t speak my name.” “But what does this mean? What has happened?” Unheeding his questions she asked, catching him by the arm: “Oh, Harry! have you seen him? Am I too late?” Again he started with surprise, but in a moment he comprehended her meaning. “You refer to Curtis Remington. I have seen him.” “And--and he lives?” Her tone was hardly audible. “Yes.” “I am so glad. Is he safe?” “Until morning.” “He must be saved!” “Alas! I fear it is impossible. But tell me how you came here. I am in a fog.” In a few words she told of the morning’s adventure; and then how she, disguised, had succeeded in reaching the place after running the gantlet of detection. “I felt it my duty to do something to save him. I feared you would not know of his being here. So I have come.” “But you have run a fearful risk.” “Do not speak of that. But tell me what can be done for him.” Captain Morland quickly acquainted her with the particulars of the postponed execution. “It is an unpleasant turn of affairs,” he said in conclusion, “but no more than one must be prepared to meet in the fortunes of war. Curt is a spy and a dreaded foe to our cause. I love him as a brother, but am powerless to help him. God knows I would gladly save him if I could.” She wrung her hands in agony. “And you are sure that he will be shot to-morrow?” “As certain as I am that the sun will rise. But, Mara, this is weak in you. He is not the only one----” “I know--I know, brother. But I--I love him! I am willing to give my life to save him!” She reeled to and fro as if she would fall. “This is weak in you, Mara,” he said, folding her to his breast. “Come, put him from your mind; and in the morning you must return home. Grandfather--hark! there is the bugle-call. We have had marching orders. I must go. Our brigade is ordered to Buzzard’s Gap.” Pressing a hurried kiss upon her brow, he gently put her from him. “It is hard to leave you, but I must. Stay here to-night and start for home in the morning,” he said. “You will be careful of yourself, Mara, won’t you?” “Yes, yes, Harry. Oh, this is dreadful.”