“Do, then, and be quick about it,” exclaimed Goldsborough, impatiently. While waiting for the return of the messenger, Goldsborough looked about with some curiosity, for this was a new encampment of the Free Sword, to which his brother-in-arms had never been before. He saw that they were in a very small clearing, where the trees had been cut down to make room and furnish material for a picket’s hut, that stood in the very midst of the small, open space. Before this hut was burning a fire of brushwood, and around it were three or four guerrillas at rest, beside the sentry on duty. Presently the messenger returned in attendance upon the Free Sword, who came in person to receive his brother-in-arms. Vittorio Corsoni was not much changed in personal appearance since we saw him last. Originally very dark in complexion, exposure to the sun, wind and weather could not make him much darker, and he had the same long, black curls, small, white teeth, and large, melancholy eyes—eyes that had so mesmerized every woman that had ever come under their influence, and so bewitched Alberta Goldsborough to her destruction, and he had the same slight, agile and graceful figure that so reminded the beholder of a tiger. He wore a uniform of black cloth, with a crimson sash around his waist, a sword by his side, and a black wide-awake hat, with a black feather, fastened with a great fiery carbuncle. He walked briskly up to Goldsborough to embrace him after the Italian fashion, and in doing so noticed the young lady on the horse behind him, and he raised his cap to the lady before he offered to greet her cavalier. Albert bent low from his saddle to meet the advance of his friend, who, after kissing him on both cheeks, started back, exclaiming: “But, good Heavens, Goldsborough! what has happened to your ears? Have they been torn off?” “No,” laughed Albert; “they have been clawed off, clawed off by this little catamount on the horse behind me!” “Vittorio Corsoni, don’t you know me? I am Elfrida Fielding, your old pupil.” “Know you, fair lady? Perhaps not at first. I am glad to do so now. Welcome to my poor camp,” said the Free Sword, removing his hat and holding it in his hand. “Colonel Corsoni, you used to be a gentleman. You will protect me, I hope, from this miscreant who has torn me away from my friends and brought me here.” “Fair lady, we brothers-in-arms support each other in love as in war,” said Vittorio gently. “But he brought me here against my will!” cried Elfie, indignantly. “Sweet lady, stratagem is as fair in love as in war.” “But there was no stratagem. He brought me here by violence!” “It was the violence of passion inspired by your too delightful beauty. Gentle lady, you must forgive him,” answered Vittorio. And then, with a deep bow, he turned away from Elfie, and, addressing Albert, inquired: “Shall we move forward?” “If you please, Corsoni,” answered Colonel Goldsborough.