"If those are your people they mustn't see me," she said quietly, a little accent of pleading in her voice. "You promise that first?" "Of course," although surprised at her asking. "I know it is our orders to intercept everything which can aid the enemy, but I don't feel inclined to prevent your taking quinine to the poor fellows in the hospital. War hasn't made me as inhuman as that. We can easily reach the town ahead of that squad of cavalry, and if you have some safe place there to go, and will only keep indoors, there is no danger of discovery." "I have," eagerly, "Judge Moran's house; you can see its gable there among the trees. He is so old he has not even been conscripted." She laughed, flashing a look aside at me as she shook the reins and applied the whip. "I wonder what he will think when he sees me driving up alongside a Yankee. It will be like the end of the world. No, don't talk to me any more; I've got to conjure up a nice, respectable story to tell him." She remained very quiet as we rattled down the hill, her forehead puckered, her gaze straight ahead. Suddenly she asked, "Do you sometimes tell falsehoods?" "Guilty." "Are they ever justified?" "Well, really I don't know; from the standpoint of the strict moralist I presume not; but it is my judgment the strict moralist wouldn't last long in time of war." I was amused at the earnestness with which she looked at me, apparently weighing my words as soberly as though they had important meaning. "What's the trouble? If there is any prevaricating to be done, turn it over to me--I have become an expert." "No doubt," her face brightening, "but I must attend to this case myself. Judge Moran will have to suppose you a Confederate spy. No, not a word of protest will I listen to. If you go along with me, it must be exactly as I say; there is no other way, for otherwise he would never receive you into the house." "Oh, very well," I replied indifferently, my eyes marking the swift approach of that distant squad of cavalry. "The masquerade will be short, and well worth while if it only earns me a breakfast with you." The toss of her head was hardly complimentary. We were in the tree-lined streets by this time, and suddenly she wheeled the pony in through an open gate-way. The house was large, painted white, of distinctly Southern architecture, the broad stone steps surmounted by rounded pillars. On the porch a man sat smoking. He arose instantly, hat in hand, and came down to meet us. His was a tall, slender, slightly stooped figure, a finely chiselled face, the hair and beard white. His eyes, apparently as keen as ever, instantly recognized the girl, his stern features relaxing into a smile of welcome. "I am surprised and pleased to greet you, Miss Willifred," cordially bowing over her extended hand. "'Tis a long while since we have seen you here." "Not from any doubt of your hospitality, Judge, but the armies have made travelling unsafe."