“Then I sorter reckon as how Mariar and me wus them ghosts,” he continued, grinning. “We sorter reckoned as how we wanted ter see who wus yere afore we come in. 'I'll listen till my fancy hears the clang of swords, the crash of spears.' These yere is tough times, stranger, in these parts, an' a man whut has ter pertect a lovely female hes got ter keep his eye skinned.” Maria sniffed contemptuously. “Ye're no great shakes at a pertectin' o' me, Jed Bungay. Now you sit down thar an' begin ter fill up. I reckon as how ther Cap an' his gal will kinder jine with us fer manners.” She seated Jed with such extreme vigor that I looked for the chair to collapse beneath him as he came down, but the little man, not in the least daunted, picked up his knife and fork with a sigh of relief. “'O woman! in our hours of ease uncertain, coy, and hard to please,'” he murmured. “Come, sit down, stranger; 'Sit down an' share a soldier's couch, a soldier's fare.' Not as I'm a sojer,” he hastened to explain, “but thet's how it is in ther book. Say, old woman, kint ye kinder sker up some coffee fer we uns--leastwise whut us Confeds call coffee?” Without much difficulty I induced Mrs. Brennan to draw her chair once more to the table, and I sat down beside her. “You are Confederate, then?” I asked, curious to know upon which side his sympathies were enlisted in the struggle. He glanced warily at my gray jacket, then his shrewd, shifty eyes wandered to the blue and yellow cavalry cloak lying on the floor. “Wal, I jist don't know, Cap,” he said cautiously, continuing to eat as he talked, “as I'm much o' enything in this yere row. First ther durned gray-backs they come snoopin' up yere, an' run off all my horgs; then ther blame blue-bellies come 'long an' cut down every lick o' my corn fodder, so thet I'll be cussed if I ain't 'bout ready ter fight either side. Anyhow I ain't did no fightin' yit worth talkin' 'bout, fer Mariar is pow'ful feared I'd git hurt.” Maria regarded him scornfully. “Hiding out, I suppose?” “Wal, 'tain't very healthful fer us ter be stayin' et hum much o' ther time, long with that thar Red Lowrie, an' Jim Hale, an' the rest o' thet cattle 'round yere.” “Guerillas pretty thick now in the mountains?” He glanced up quickly, his shrewd gray eyes on my face, and Maria turned about as she stood beside the fireplace. “Wal, I dunno; I heerd as they wus doin' somethin' down by ther brick church, but thar 's no great shakes of 'em jist 'round yere. I reckon as how they knows 'nough ter keep 'way from Jed Bungay--I'd pitch 'em 'far as ever peasant pitched a bar.'” “You have no fear of them, then?” “Whut, me?” The little man sat bolt upright, and glared fiercely across the table as though he would resent an insult. “Stranger, I have fit them ar fellers night an' day in these yere mountings fer nigh onter three year--me an' Mariar.