“You overwhelm me, Miss Fielding—you do, indeed,” said little Mim, with emotion. “I have the greatest respect for you, and for all the ladies, and I thought it was no more than just natural to lay down my life for you, if necessary—what any man would do for any lady.” “But, dear Mim, we had proof enough that day that there wasn’t a man on the ground who was willing to risk getting his head broken to save me from being carried off by the guerrillas, except yourself. Oh, dear Mim, what shall I ever do to prove how much I thank and honor you?” Little Mim blushed up to the edges of his hair, and could not find words to reply. “_Oh, dear, deary me_,” sighed Miss Suzy to herself, “I hope she won’t marry him out’n gratitude. I truly hope and trust she won’t marry him out’n gratitude. Her property is all constipated by the rebels, and he hasn’t the means, with his little salary, of supporting us and a wife, and a whole lot of little ones besides. Lord have messy upon us!” While Miss Suzy thus bemoaned herself, little Mim found his tongue, and answered, like a miniature Bayard or Roland: “Miss Fielding, I now thank Heaven for my broken head, and for every pain that I have suffered in your cause. Miss Fielding, I would have had not only my head, but every bone in my body broken, to have proved my regard for you, or for any of the ladies, and to have awakened such esteem in your mind would have been consolation and reward enough,” he added with enthusiasm. “_Oh, Lord, it’s coming_,” moaned Miss Suzy to herself, “it’s coming! I know it’s coming. They’ll be engaged before she leaves the room, and married before the month is out.” Elfie laid her hand lightly on the bandaged head. “Did you suffer much pain, Mr. Mim?” “No, Miss Fielding—nothing to speak of,” he answered, slightingly. And then, as if to change conversation from himself, he laughed and said, “Not near so much as some others.” “Why, Mim, dear, what do you mean? Were any of the others injured? Not that I care if every coward among them had had his neck broken, so that _you_ were safe. But I thought that you were the only one wounded.” “So I was, Miss Fielding. But I had rather had my wound than been compelled to change clothes with any of those guerrillas, and caught—what some of my companions caught! On my own account I bear no malice to that big man, for, if he did break my head, he left me my clean clothes.” Elfie laughed at the recollection of the exchange. “Such a set of disreputable ragamuffins as they looked, Miss Fielding! I heard afterwards that some of them were denied and driven away from their own doors, and had some trouble before they could make themselves recognized by their own landladies.” “Served them right, the cowards! It would have served them right if they had been made to wear those tatters for the rest of their lives!” “I think you are hard on them, Miss Fielding. What could seventeen men do against two hundred guerrillas?”