Both Branch and Hayward entered the tent, and many of the officers crowded around to witness the introduction. "Alibamo--darling--allow me to present you to a friend--an officer in our army." "_Present_ me anywhere, and to any one, and I will rejoice, if they will only take their presence out of my sight," replied the maiden. Then turning to Hayward she said: "Pardon me, sir. I did not intend to be rude to you!" "I have nothing to pardon, sweet lady," replied Hayward kindly. "Speak plainly. I admire candor, and never wish to constrain the speech of any one--more especially a lady, and one so beautiful!" And beautiful she was, indeed. Her form was almost fairy-like. Her golden tresses fell upon a neck of spotless purity--her cheeks so clear that you could almost see the soul shine through them, leaving its tinge of beauty; and those eyes looked as if they opened first in heaven, and caught their brightness from a seraph's gaze, as flowers are fairest where the sunbeams fall. But, when she turned that gaze upon you, one could not fail to discover an expression of determination and firmness which could scarcely be expected in one so gentle in appearance. "You are inclined to flatter," she answered, with a smile. "But if you are so willing others should express their sentiments without restraint, I may hope you were not offended because I was singing a favorite song of mine when you entered my tent." "Not at all, dear lady. I should be pleased to listen to it again." "Would you? Then you shall be gratified!" And Alibamo, seizing her guitar, began the song. As she proceeded, an almost deathly silence was maintained by those around. What was the meaning of this silence--this apparent thoughtfulness? Why did not the rebel hordes _compel_ this female to cease her song of treason to them! Ah! the good old times, when their fathers and our own were fighting side by side, in freedom's holy name, and under the Union banner's folds, came freshly to the mind and heart of each, and caused them to long for just such times again, and for the glorious prosperity which was enjoyed by our country, while that "Star-spangled Banner" waved free and glorious. They thought of streams of blood--blood which had, and must still flow, mingled with tears--hot, burning mother's tears. Perhaps, too, they were thinking of their own homes, prosperous and happy, till traitors arose, and striking down the standard which waved over them, planted in its place a treacherous emblem, reeking with the pollution of a bad cause. Or, perhaps they were meditating a return to the dear old flag, but feared to do so. Fear that they might not, like the prodigal, be received with open arms, and fear that, in the outset, they would be overpowered and dealt with as mutineers.