“Come,” said Caton, briefly, and I turned and accompanied him without thought of resistance. At the front door he ordered the little squad of waiting soldiers to fall in, and taking me by the arm, led the way down the gravelled path to the road. I was impressed by his seeming carelessness, but as we cleared the gateway he spoke, and his words helped me to comprehend. “Captain Wayne,” he said quietly, so that the words could not be overheard, “you do not recognize me, but I was the officer who conducted you to headquarters when you brought the flag in at Wilson Creek. Of course I must perform the duty given me, but I wish you to understand that I wholly believe your word.” He stopped, extended his hand, and I accepted it silently. “There must surely be some grave personal reason which seals your lips?” he questioned. “There is.” “I thought as much. I chanced to overhear the words, or rather a portion of them, which Brennan whispered, and have no doubt if they were explained to the General he would feel more kindly disposed toward you.” It was asked as a question, and I felt obliged to reply. “I appreciate deeply your desire to aid me, but there are circumstances involving others which compel me for the present to silence. Indeed my possible fate does not so greatly trouble me, only that I possess a strong desire to have freedom long enough to cross swords with this major of yours. The quarrel between us has become bitterly personal, and I hunger for a chance to have it out. Do you know, is he a man who would fight?” The young fellow stiffened slightly. “We are serving upon the same staff,” he said more abruptly, “and while we have never been close friends, yet I cannot honorably take sides against him. He has been out twice within the last three years to my knowledge, and is not devoid either of courage or skill. Possibly, however, the arrival of his wife may make him less a fire-eater.” “His wife?” I stopped so suddenly that he involuntarily tightened his grip upon my arm as though suspicious of an attempt to escape. “Do you,” I asked, gaining some slight control over myself, “refer to the lady who came in with his party last evening?” “Most certainly; she was presented to all of us as Mrs. Brennan, she has been assigned rooms at his quarters, and she wears a wedding-ring. Far too fine a woman in my judgment for such a master, but then that is not so uncommon a mistake in marriage. Why, come to think about it, you must have met her yourself. Have you reason to suspect this is not their relationship?” “Not in the least,” I hastened to answer, fearful lest my thoughtless exclamation might become the basis for camp gossip. “Indeed I was scarcely in the lady's presence at all coming in, as I was left in charge of the sergeant.” He looked at me keenly through the darkness.