"Messenger," he said, "I have never forgotten. And now it is too late to forget your tears on my face--the touch of your lips on mine. I would not if I could.... It was worth living for--dying for.... Once--I hoped--some day--after this--all this trouble ended--my romance might come--true----" The boy choked, then: "I came here under orders to take a woman spy whose password was the key to a Latin phrase. But until you stood straight in your rags and smiled at me, I did not know it was you--I did not know I was to take the Special Messenger! Do you believe me?" "Yes." The boy colored painfully. Then a queer, pallid change came over his face; he rose, bent over her where she rested heavily on the table: "Little Messenger," he said, "I am in your debt for two blows and a kiss." She lifted a dazed face to meet his gaze; he trembled, leaned down, and kissed her on the mouth. Then in one bound he was at the door, signaling his troopers with drawn sabre--as once, long ago, she had seen him signal them in the Northern woods. And, through the window, she saw the scattered cavalry forming column at a gallop, obeying every sabre signal, trotting forward, wheeling fours right--and then--and then! the gray column swung into the western forest at a canter, and was gone! The boy leaning in the doorway looked back at her over his shoulder and sheathed his sabre. There was not a vestige of color left in his face. "Go!" he said hoarsely. "What?" she faltered. "Go--go, in God's name! There's a door there! Can't you see it?" * * * * * She had been gone for a full hour when at last he turned again. A bit of faded ribbon from her hair lay on the table. It was tied in a true lover's knot. He walked over, looked at it, drew it through his buttonhole and went slowly back to the door again. For a long while he stood there, vague-eyed, silent. It was nearly sunset when once more he drew his sabre, examined it carefully, bent it over one knee, and snapped the blade in two. Then, with a last look at the sky, and standing very erect, he closed the door, set his back firmly against it, drew his revolver, and looked curiously into the muzzle. A moment later the racket of the shot echoed through the deserted house. V RED FERRY When Private Allen of Kay's Cavalry deserted with headquarters' dispatch pouch, and headed straight for Dixie, there was a great deal of consternation and excitement on the north bank of the river, and a considerable amount of headlong riding. But on the tenth day he slipped through the cordon, got into the woods, and was making for the river when a patrol shot at him near Gopher Creek, but lost him in the impenetrable cypress swamp beyond. However, the pursuit was pushed forward to the very edge of the enemy's country; Kay's troopers patrolled the north bank of the river and watched every road and ford; east and west Ripley's and Haynes's brigades formed impassable curtains.