The amount of blushing, laughter, pouting, good humor, and hilarity generally, which this poem occasioned, was charming. In a few minutes we were all seated again on the grassy bank, and Tom had given me a history of his adventures, which had not been either numerous or remarkable. He had been assigned to duty on the staff of General Fitzhugh Lee, and it was delightful to hear his enthusiasm on the subject of that gay and gallant officer. “I tell you he’s a trump, old fellow,” quoth Tom, with ardor. “He’s as brave as steel, a first-rate officer, a thorough gentleman, generous, kind, and as jolly as a lark! Give me Fitz Lee to fight with, or march with, or hear laugh! He was shot in the Valley, and I have been with him in Richmond. In spite of his wound, which is a severe one, he is as gay as the sunshine, and it would put you in good spirits only to go into his chamber!” “I know General Fitz well, Tom,” I replied, “and you are right about him; every word you say is true, and more to boot, old fellow. So you are cruising around now, waiting for your chief to recover?” “Exactly, my dear Surry.” “And have captured the barque _Katy!_” “Humph!” quoth Miss Katy, tossing her head, with a blush and a laugh. “Beware of pirates,” I said, “who make threats even in their verses,--and now tell me, Miss Katy, if you are on a visit to Petersburg? It will give me true pleasure to come and see you.” “Indeed you must!” she said, looking at me with the most fascinating smile, “for you know you are one of my old friends now, and must not neglect me. I am at my aunt’s, Mrs. Hall,--uncle brought me a month ago from Buckland; but in the morning I shall go down to a cousin’s in Dinwiddie.” “In Dinwiddie, Miss Katy?” “Yes, near the Rowanty. My cousin, Mr. Dare, has come for me.” “Well, I will visit you there.” “Please do. The house is called ‘Disaway’s.’” I bowed, smiling, and turned to Tom Herbert. “When shall I see you again, Tom, and where? Next week--at Disaway’s?” Tom colored and then laughed. This dandy, you see, was a good boy still. “Well, old fellow,” he replied, “I think it possible I may visit Dinwiddie. My respected chieftain, General Fitz, is at present reposing on his couch in Richmond, and I am bearer of bouquets as well as of dispatches between him and his surgeon. But I am told he is ordered to Dinwiddie as soon as he is up. The country is a new one; the thought has occurred to me that any information I can acquire by--hem!--a topographical survey, would be valuable. You perceive, do you not, my dear friend? You appreciate my motive?” “Perfectly, Tom. There will probably be a battle near ‘Disaway’s.’” “And I’d better ride over the ground, eh?” “Yes.” “Well, I’ll do it!” “Only beware of one thing!” “What, my dear Surry?” asked Tom, anxiously. “There is probably a conservatory at Disaway’s.” “A conservatory?” “Like that near Buckland, and the battle might take place _there_. If it does--two to one you are routed!”