The lady at once returned the salutation with a genial smile, that sent a thrill of pleasure and confidence to his heart. Without further ceremony he thereupon frankly and fearlessly informed Mrs. Taylor that he and his companion were escaped Union prisoners; that they were in a condition of starvation; and appealed respectfully but most urgently to her as a woman, for humanity's sake, to assist them in their sore need by giving them food. She at first hesitated, startled by such a request from such a source. Her husband, she said, was an officer in the Confederate service, and if it became known that she had assisted those whom his government counted enemies, it would possibly bring reproach upon him. Our young hero (for he it was) then addressed her somewhat after the fashion of the unfortunate Ulysses in his appeal to the goddess Calypso; recounted his misfortunes briefly, touched on the terrible fate that awaited him and his companion, should they be recaptured, and all doubtless in such moving terms that, like Desdemona, the lady must have thought, if she did not exclaim: "'Twas pitiful--'twas wondrous pitiful!" This is evident from the fact that she scarcely awaited the end of his story, before assuring him that "she would do all she could," following up that assurance in a few moments by offering the manly and polite youth before her an abundant supply of fresh and excellent food; which, she took the precaution of adding, was for himself and his comrade, fearing possibly, from Glazier's famished look, he might consume it all himself! She further assured her visitor that she would keep the secret of his having been there; while he, in return, protested that should the varying fortunes of war give him the opportunity of serving her husband, he would do so at the risk of his life. With his haversack amply replenished, an appetite like a wolf, faith in the goodness of God strengthened, and belief in the perfection of some, at least, of the fairest portion of creation greatly confirmed by this interview, he rejoined Lieutenant Lemon, and the comrades proceeded forthwith to their meal which was enjoyed with a zest known only to the starving. Before reclining himself under the glittering stars, Glazier made this entry in his diary: "Oh! ye who sleep on beds of down, in your curtained chambers, and rise at your leisure to feast upon the good things provided ... you never knew the luxury of a night of _rest_, nor the sweets of a meal seasoned by hunger, and the grateful remembrance that it was provided by woman's kindly heart, which, wherever it may beat, sooner or later responds to the tale of misfortune."