Directly opposite me, at the long and rather scantily furnished mess-table, was seated a captain of infantry, quite foreign in appearance,--a tall, slender man, wearing a light-colored moustache and goatee. His name, as I gathered from the conversation, was Carlson, and I was considerably surprised at the fixedness with which his eyes were fastened upon me during the earlier part of the meal. Thinking we might have met somewhere before, I ransacked my memory in vain for any recollection which would serve to account for his evident interest in me. Finally, not a little annoyed by the persistency of his stare, I ventured to ask, as pleasantly as possible: “Captain Carlson, do I remind you of some one, since you regard me so intently?” The man instantly flushed all over his fair face at this direct inquiry. “It vas not dat” (he almost stammered in sudden confusion, speaking quite brokenly), “bot, sair, it haf come to me dat you vos an insulter of womens, an' had refuse to fight mit mens. I know not; it seems not so.” I was upon my feet in an instant, scarcely crediting my own ears, yet on fire with indignation. “I know not what you may mean,” I said, white with anger. “But I hold you personally accountable for those words, and you shall discover that I will fight 'mit mens.'” He pushed his chair hastily back, his face fairly crimson, and began to stammer an explanation; but Maitland interfered. “What does all this mean, Carlson?” he exclaimed sternly. “Sit down, Wayne--there is some strange mistake here.” I resumed my chair, wondering if they had all gone crazy, yet resolved upon taking instant action if some satisfactory explanation were not at once forthcoming. “Come, Carlson, what do you mean by addressing such language to Captain Wayne?” “Veil,” said the Swede, so agitated by the excitement about him he could scarcely find English in which to express himself intelligibly, “it vos dis vay. I vould not insult Captain Vayne; oh, no, bot it vos told to me, an' I vould haf him to know how it all vos. It vos two months ago I go mit de flag of truce into de Federal lines at Minersville. You know dat time? I vos vaitin' for answer ven a Yankee rides oop, an' looks me all ofer like I vos a hog. 'Veil,' I say, plain like, 'vot you vant?' He say, 'I heard der vos Reb officer come in der lines, an' I rides down to see if he vos der hound vot I vanted to horsevip.' 'Veil,' I say, for it made me much mad, 'maybe you like to horsevip me?' 'No,' he says, laughing, 'it vos a damn pup in der ----th Virginia Cavalry, named Vayne, I am after,' I say, 'Vot has he done?' He says, 'He insult a voman, an' vould not fight mit me.'” He looked about him anxiously to see if we comprehended his words. “And what did you say?” from a dozen eager voices. The Swede gazed at them in manifest astonishment.