Meanwhile the young guerrilla, who had left the room, returned, bearing a small rude pine table and a coarse crash table cloth, which he arranged for supper. Alberta took from her corner cupboard a few cracked cups, saucers and plates, and set them upon the table, while her guerrilla waiter went out and brought in a loaf of bread, a plate of broiled chicken and a paper of loaf sugar. “Gill, my boy, you are the prince of purveyors!” said Alberta, as she received the good things and arranged them to her liking. “All these with the compliments of Captain Mutchison,” said Gill, as he delivered them over. “Of course! spoils of our picnic,” exclaimed Elfie. “And this,” said Gill, who had again flitted out empty-handed and now flitted in with a canteen of fresh milk, “this with Abershaw’s compliments.” “Rich new milk for our tea! This is indeed a luxury. Where did it come from, Gill?” “Abershaw drove in a herd of cows this evening,” answered the boy. “One would really think that we were living the border life of Scotland in the olden time, when cow-stealing was the most popular profession among the landed gentry and their retainers,” mused Elfie. “Never mind. Don’t quarrel with your supper, my dear. When you have led a guerrilla life as long as I have, you will learn to take what is set before you and be thankful. Gill! is that thunder?” inquired Alberta, as a low muttering sound was heard in the air outside. “Yes, ma’am, there is an awful black cloud rising. The men think there will be a storm—a great storm.” “It is very late in the season for a thunder-storm. But then it has been so unusually warm. Gill!” “Yes, ma’am.” “Are all our men on this side the river?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And have all Colonel Goldsborough’s force re-crossed?” “All ma’am.” “Then I am glad the storm is coming up! The river will rise and the fords be impassable, and so pursuit will be cut off, even if the enemy should be so mad as to wish to ‘beard the lion in his den.’ You can retire now, Gill.” The young guerrilla pulled his forelock by way of making a bow, and then left the room. “Come, Elfie, draw up your chair,” said Alberta, as she set the teapot on the table. “I would like to wash my hands first,” said Elfie, holding up her fingers. “Good—HEAVENS!” exclaimed Alberta, in real, downright consternation. “What have you been about, Elfie? Who have you been butchering? I am accustomed to the sight of blood, but I never saw such a pair of hands in all my life! What ever have you been doing with them?” “I have been proving how well I love Guerrilla Goldsborough, and how willing I was to be carried off by him. I have heard that it is considered an ignominy for a man to lose his ears, and I knew that Guerrilla Goldsborough deserved such ignominy; and I have been doing my best to inflict it upon him!” replied Elfie, as she went to the wash basin which Alberta had filled with water for her.