There was a wonderful degree of mirth and tenderness in her eyes as she watched him. They had floated by a little point; and as he raised his head he saw a form which he recognized as Mr. Merriweather rowing toward them. "There comes one of your shadows," he said mockingly. "Be careful how you exchange boats when he comes along-side. I will give you no help in such a case." She looked hastily over her shoulder at the approaching oarsman. "I think it will be safer to remain in your boat," she said. "Oh, it will be entirely safe," he replied bitterly. "Mr. Merriweather must have seen you carrying me." "That's another thing which I can't help." "Mr. Scofield," she began softly. He arrested his oars, and turned wondering eyes to hers. They were sparkling with mirth as she continued, "Are you satisfied that a certain young woman whom you once watched very narrowly is entirely to your mind?" He caught her mirthful glance and misunderstood her. With dignity he answered, "I'm not the first man who blundered to his cost, though probably it would have made no difference. You must do me the justice, however, to admit that I did not maintain the role of observer very long--that I wooed you so openly that every one was aware of my suit. Is it not a trifle cruel to taunt me after I had made such ample amends?" "I was thinking of Mr. Merriweather--" "Undoubtedly" "Since he has seen me with my arm around your neck--you know I couldn't help it--perhaps he might row the other way if--if--well, if he saw you--what shall I say--sitting over here--by me--or--Somehow I don't feel very hungry, and I wouldn't mind spending another hour--" Scofield nearly upset the boat in his precipitous effort to gain a seat beside her--and Mr. Merriweather did row another way. CHRISTMAS EVE IN WAR TIMES It was the beginning of a battle. The skirmish line of the Union advance was sweeping rapidly over a rough mountainous region in the South, and in his place on the extreme left of this line was Private Anson Marlow. Tall trees rising from underbrush, rocks, bowlders, gulches worn by spring torrents, were the characteristics of the field, which was in wild contrast with the parade-grounds on which the combatants had first learned the tactics of war. The majority, however, of those now in the ranks had since been drilled too often under like circumstances, and with lead and iron shotted guns, not to know their duty, and the lines of battle were as regular as the broken country allowed. So far as many obstacles permitted, Marlow kept his proper distance from the others on the line and fired coolly when he caught glimpses of the retreating Confederate skirmishers. They were retiring with ominous readiness toward a wooded height which the enemy occupied with a force of unknown strength. That strength was soon manifested in temporary disaster to the Union forces, which were driven back with heavy loss.