We need not follow her on that return journey and her visit to the Confederate camp. Fortunately, the Confederates were nearer than she supposed. She came upon their pickets, and was taken into the commanding officer's presence. Her brother was sent for, and when he came she told him she was looking for his friend, Mrs. G----. "Looking for her!" said her brother. "Why, that is what we moved out this way for! She is in camp now. We brought her and her luggage in last night." She eagerly entreated to be taken to her, and was carried to a pavilion, or marquee, a little apart from the officers' quarters. Mrs. G---- came in richly but simply dressed, attended by a portly, handsome, but rather dull-looking officer. "Why, Lassie!" said Mrs. G---- in surprise. "So you have come to see me? Here are the remains of my poor dear," she added with a little laugh, presenting the gentleman. "Do you think he is worth all the trouble I took to get him?" "Ha! much pleased! Devilish proper girl!" said the man with a stupid blush, justifying the stolidity of his good looks. "But where is your _preux chevalier_, Captain Cophetua? I declare, I almost fell in love with him myself. Frank here is quite jealous." "Oh, Mrs. G----," broke out the poor girl, "you have killed him! They are going to try him and hang him for helping you to spy." "Nonsense!" said the lady with a little start. "The poor fellow did nothing but what, as a gentleman, he was compelled to do. But how can I help you?" "Save him," said Lassie. "You have your wealth, your wit, your husband: I have but him!" and she sank down in tears. "Stupid," said the lady, turning sharply on her husband, "tell me what to do? Don't you see we must not let them hang the poor fellow?" "Of course not," said the big man dryly. "Just countermand the order of execution. No doubt the Yankees will obey: I would." "Of course you would: a precious life you would lead if you did not," said his wife, who evidently commanded that squad. "Never mind: there is more sense in what you said than I expected of you--Jane," to the smart maid who attended on her, "pen, ink, paper and my portfolio." Opening the last, she took out a bundle of letters, and, running them rapidly over as a gambler does his cards, she selected one. "This," she said to Lassie, "is a note from General ----. It is written without the slightest suspicion of my character as a spy; but you will see it involves him far more dangerously than your friend. He cannot well explain it away. Keep the letter. I will write to him that you have it to deliver over in return for his kind assistance in effecting the release of your friend. Don't fear: I ask him to do nothing he ought not to do without asking, and you give him a letter that would be misconstrued if it fell into other hands."