"Well, Mr. Lieutenant Galesworth, have you looked long enough?" The swift question confused me, but I found answer. "No; but as long as I dare. You were observing me also." "Naturally--womanly curiosity is my excuse. Would you like to know what conclusion I came to?" "From your eyes it may not prove altogether flattering." "Oh, my eyes are not to be trusted. I warn you frankly of that at the very start. All I shall say is you appear better than I had expected--only, really, you need a shave." "Better how? In what way?" "Well, younger for one thing; somehow your statement that you were a lieutenant made me suspect your age--or possibly it was your voice." "I am twenty-four." "And look to be scarcely twenty. How did you ever gain a commission? Were you in battle?" The question decidedly hurt my pride, yet I managed to control my tongue. "I have met colonels in both armies no older than I," I returned swiftly. "Of course I have been in battle, wounded for the matter of that, and three months a prisoner." "Oh, I did not mean to question your right to the shoulder straps. War makes men fast; I know that for my home has been in the track of both armies." "You live in this neighborhood?" "Yes, about twenty miles south of where we are now. Shall I tell you what I am doing here?" I bowed, eager to learn although I had not been brash enough to inquire. "You have been wondering all night," carelessly. "If you had asked I should have refused to answer, but will now reward your remarkable patience with a full confession. I am going to take quinine back to our hospitals. I won't tell you where I am going to get it," a bit defiantly, "although I am not afraid you would try to stop me." "Certainly not; why should I?" "There are plenty of Yanks who do; the last messenger was shot by your raiders, and the whole consignment lost. He was my cousin; that is why I am trying what I can do--the boys need it so badly. If you are an honorable soldier you will not interfere with a work of mercy." "An honorable soldier!" I exclaimed, stung by the words. "Do you question that?" "Not until after daylight came, and I noticed how you were clothed," and her eyes lost all gleam of humor. "I respect a scout, but despise a spy." My cheeks flamed, as I realized what she meant--the tattered gray jacket, buttoned tightly, and concealing my blue blouse. In swift disgust I wrenched it open, and flung the garment into the road. "I had entirely forgotten I had the thing on," I explained hastily. "Don't condemn until you hear my story. You will listen, will you not?" She sat silent, looking intently into my face, with merely the slightest inclination of the head.