“Elfie,” said Alberta, gently and soothingly, “by this vehement outburst of sorrow, I perceive that you love Albert still.” “I do not! I love no traitor!” passionately broke forth the girl. “Elfie! how _can_ you speak so unjustly and cruelly of your lover!” “I speak truly of him!” “Elfie! let me say one word in Albert’s defence!” “What is it?” “_He thinks he is right!_” “Oh, Alberta! how can he think so? How can any man think so.” “He thinks he is right, as many a gallant leader in the Confederate army thinks! To _his_ idea of right he has sacrificed all that he possesses on earth, as many a Southern patriot has done!” “Alberta! we have talked of this before. We have been over and over the argument until my heart and soul are both sick of it! And besides, you may preach all day and yet you will never make me believe that light is darkness, or that treason is patriotism! Bosh! Who do you think is a fool?” snapped Elfie, abruptly turning her face away. “I think every narrow-minded and prejudiced person is a fool, for that matter, Elfie! I do not wish to convince you of anything in particular, Elfie! I only wish to engage your charitable construction for those who happen to differ from you in opinion—and especially for the lover, of whom it pains you so much to think ill.” Elfie made no reply, but with her face to the wall, continued to sob. Alberta tried to soothe her, but in vain, for Elfie was inconsolable. Nevertheless, the chieftain’s wife sat by the pallet until her guest had sobbed herself to sleep, and slept like a tired child. Then the unhappy lady threw herself upon her own bed, and fell into a fitful slumber. Elfie slept long and well, and did not awake until the beating of the reveillé aroused her. “It is like enchantment,” she said, sitting up on her pallet, and gazing around on the leafy walls of her hut, through the interstices of which the first rays of the rising sun pierced redly. Alberta was already up and dressed. She brought a clean towel and some water in a broken bowl, and set them before her guest, saying with a smile: “You must make the best toilet you can under the circumstances, my dear. We are not even so well off here as we were at the old mansion house.” Elfie followed the advice of her hostess as well as she could. And by the time she had washed her face and arranged her hair and her dress, Alberta was ready to take her out, where, upon the dried grass before the hut, a substantial breakfast was spread. The Free Sword joined them at the meal. “I am sorry to tell you, Miss Fielding,” he said, with a bow to Elfie, “that Colonel Goldsborough has left the camp for an absence of several days.” Elfie looked up in surprise. “He has left you in our charge, and I need scarcely say that we will do all in our power to make you comfortable,” he continued.