At that moment Wing and Hay came up from different points. On seeing Elfie, Wing started and withdrew a little into the shade. Justin went up to him said: “I suppose you were led here by the cries, as I was?” “Yes, sir, they resounded through every part of the grove, I assure you.” “Well, I hope there has been no great harm done. We found a parson and the young lady whom you met as a captive among the guerrillas, bound here to a couple of trees. I do not quite understand the affair yet; but they are apparently uninjured. Now go, Wing—take Hay with you, and ride back to the field. Tell Lieutenant-Colonel Wedgewood that we shall encamp in and around this grove to-night. Tell him to send all the men here who are not engaged in looking after the wounded and the dead, or in guarding the prisoners.” Wing bowed, beckoned Hay to follow him and left the scene. Justin turned and seated himself on a fragment of rock near the bank of leaves on which Elfie rested. “I am very glad, Elfie, to find you safe at last,” he said, a little dubiously. “Yes, thank Heaven, I have passed safely through the terrible days of my captivity,” said Elfie. “I can answer for that. The men of Belial, bad as they were, didn’t dare to harm a hair of her head. From their chief downward, they all treated her with respect,” said the preacher. “Hold your tongue, Mr. Simmons. I don’t need that _you_ should endorse me. I have little reason to be grateful to you, goodness knows, for saving your life at the expense of my liberty,” snapped Elfie. The preacher bowed his head under this rebuke. And Justin Rosenthal looked from one to the other in perplexity. “I will explain, Justin; but it is a long story, I can tell you. I have been through a campaign since I saw you last,” said Elfie. “But before you begin, my dear young lady, let me ask the captain here a question.—Sir, might you have a morsel to eat or drink about you?” piteously inquired the poor consumptive preacher. “No, I mightn’t, I am sorry to say,” smiled Justin. “You see we haven’t broken our fast since the morning. And I feel a sort of inward sinking. And if you had a scrap of hard tack or a drop of old rye—” “I regret very much that I have nothing of the sort. You know that we cavalry rangers, out after guerrillas, carry no provisions. We look to live on the country,” said Colonel Rosenthal. The poor preacher laid his thin hands over his empty bread-basket, and groaned aloud. Even Elfie pitied him. “Never mind, Mr. Simmons,” she said, “you heard the order given by Colonel Rosenthal. The men will be here presently, and you may depend they will not come empty-handed. We shall have a sumptuous supper presently.” With this piece of comfort the preacher tried to content himself. “And now, Elfie,” said Justin Rosenthal. “Well, I suppose you heard that our picnic party was surprised by the guerrillas, and that I was carried off?”