A look as of relief came over the face of Miss Osborne as she answered: “I thank you very much. I shall never say again there are no gentlemen among the Yankees. But tell us of your adventure. I thought I heard firing about an hour ago. Was there any one hurt?” “Only my poor horse; he was killed,” answered Haines. “Ah! in the days of knighthood to be unhorsed was to be defeated,” exclaimed Miss Osborne, gayly. “You must admit yourself vanquished!” Haines laughingly replied: “I am sorry to disappoint you; but as I captured my enemy’s horse and he fled on foot, I cannot admit defeat.” “Then your enemy was a solitary knight?” queried Miss Osborne. “Yes, but to all appearances a most gallant one.” “Strange,” she mused, “who he could be, and what he could be doing in this section. The place for true knights, at this time, is at Corinth.” “From letters captured with his horse, I take it he was from Corinth,” said Haines. “From those letters we learned that his name was Calhoun Pennington, that he was a lieutenant in the command of Captain John H. Morgan, a gentleman who has given us considerable trouble, and may give us more, and that he was on his way back to Kentucky to recruit for Morgan’s command.” “You say you captured letters?” queried the girl. “Yes, a whole package of them. They were from members of Morgan’s command to their friends back in Kentucky. The boys are having rare fun reading them.” “I suppose it is according to military usages to read all communications captured from the enemy,” remarked Miss Osborne with a slight tinge of sarcasm in her tone, “but it seems sacrilege that these private letters should fall into profane hands.” “Some of them were rich,” laughed Haines; “they were written by loving swains to their girls. There were others written to wives and mothers, which almost brought tears to our eyes, they were so full of yearnings for home.” “Lieutenant, there was nothing in those letters of value to you from a military standpoint, was there?” suddenly asked Miss Osborne. “Nothing.” “Then I have a great boon to ask. Will you not give them to me?” “Why, Miss Osborne, what can you do with them?” asked Haines, in surprise. “I can at least keep them sacred. Perhaps I can find means of getting them to those for whom they are intended. Think of those wives and mothers watching, waiting for letters which will never come. Oh! give them to me, Lieutenant Haines, and you will sleep the sweeter to-night.” “Your request is a strange one,” said the Lieutenant; “yet I can see no harm in granting it. You can have the letters, but the boys may have destroyed some of them by this time.” “Thank you! Oh, thank you! You will never regret your kindness. I shall remember it.” “I only ask you to think better of Yankees, Miss Osborne; we are not all monsters.” Dinner was now over, and Sergeant Latham came to report that the hour for the halt was up, and to ask what were the Lieutenant’s orders.