She hushed my impetuous words with the gesture of a queen, and rose to her feet facing me. Under the stars our eyes looked into each other, and her face was very white. “You must not,” she said firmly, and I thought she glanced down upon the motionless figure at her feet. “I have trusted you; do not cause me to regret it now.” I bowed, humiliated to the very depths of my soul. “Your rebuke is perfectly just,” I answered slowly. “God knows I shall never be guilty again. You will have faith in me?” “Always, everywhere--whether it ever be our fate to meet again or not. But now you must go.” “Go? And leave you here alone? Are you not afraid?” “Afraid?” she looked about her into the darkness. “Of what? Surely you do not mean of Frank--of Major Brennan? And as to my being alone, our quarters are within a scant hundred yards from here, and a single cry will bring me aid in plenty. Hush! what was that?” It was the shuffling tread of many feet, the sturdy tramp of a body of infantry on the march. “Go!” she cried hurriedly. “If you would truly serve me, if you care at all for me, do not longer delay and be discovered here. It is the grand rounds. I beg of you, go!” I grasped her outstretched hand, pressed my lips hotly upon it, and sped with noiseless footsteps down the black, deserted road. CHAPTER XIX THE CAVALRY OUTPOST I LINGERED merely long enough to feel assured as to her safety, creeping closer until I heard her simple story of the Major's fall from his horse, and then watched through the night shadows while the little squad bore his unconscious form over the crest of the low hill toward their quarters. Then I turned my face eastward and tramped resolutely on. The excitement of the night, and especially the sharp, fierce struggle with Brennan, had reawakened all my old military enthusiasm, and I felt every nerve tingling anew as I breasted the long slope before me. Even the depression naturally resulting from my unhappy parting with Edith Brennan gave way for the time being to this sense of surrounding danger, while the ardor of youth responded joyfully to the spirit of adventure. I simply would not think of what I had lost; certainly would not permit its memory to depress me. I was, first of all, a soldier, and nothing short of death or capture should prevent me reaching Lee with my message. Let what would happen, all else could wait!